One of the most tedious of garden jobs to me is pricking out seedlings into flats. I have a ton of flats that are overdue for transplant. The weather this spring has been so odd, I’m off my game. Today, I was lucky that my dear friend who owns garden D came over to talk to me while I moved plants around. That always helps me stay on task. We had a nice (albeit muggy) afternoon talking and transplanting.
I’ve been out doing promotions for the backyard tour and one of the questions that comes up a lot is the noise of chickens. Chickens talk a lot. Roosters yell a lot. Roosters don’t just crow at sunrise. I find chicken noise to be incredibly peaceful for the most part. They have very communicative little noises. Play, food, surprise are all things they are able to communicate. One thing that they do drives me bonkers, but they don’t do it much. If the hawk flies over, one will run out and start and alarm cluck that is incredibly loud. The others will then go hide. The red hen sounds the alarm for hawks and the turken does it for cats. Very weird little system they have.
Two of the chicks moved next door this week to their forever home. They have lush new accommodations, but cannot figure out how to get to their nest boxes at night. My neighbor goes out every night and picks them up and puts them up high. While we were transplanting starts and tossing worms to the chicks, I noticed that one of the old hens was up in the kids fort. I couldn’t believe it, I had no idea they went up there. It provided our answer about the chicks, they should be capable of getting into their nest boxes on their own.
Good place to escape my blood thirsty dog boy, but bad place for escaping the hawk. The hawk swoops over the yard and over to the tree on the left beyond the fort. I’ve seen it just that low about right there where she is standing.
Looks like I have two roosters. One of the Lankenvelters turns out has decided to be a boy. Isn’t he beautiful? His name is now “soup”. This issue is probably the biggest one I get questioned about when speaking to people about chickens. Roosters are not allowed in many municipalities. Sad, but it’s the way it is. You can order chicks that are “female”, but there are mistakes in sexing. Always expect that the supplier will get some wrong. Hens get old. If you want pets, that’s ok. If you are producing eggs, it may not be. Feed costs money. It’s not too bad to feed a pet, but a non productive chicken is another thing. I’m only allowed a certain number of chickens. My chickens become soup when they stop laying. I don’t have room for chickens as pets. That’s my decision, but it is something to consider before you get backyard urban chickens.
My other roo is an unusual breed called Derbyshire Red Cap. He isn’t technically mine. He belongs to my friend Heather. She has not named him soup. She would like to find him a home and I’m good with that. It will take quite a while to get him up to an edible size because of his breed. The comb that is growing on his head is fascinating to me though and I find him quite beautiful as well. Sadly, his comb is obscured in this picture.
So with good company and inquisitive chickens milling about we had a really nice afternoon transplanting. I can’t imagine how people could focus on the noise when chickens can be such nice companions. The white rock at the top has the worm game all figured out and won’t stray too far from me when I’m outside. They are the breed that picked up the fastest on the human having good treats.