|BP would appreciate it if we’d stop
bringing up the ‘broody’ incident.
The broody hen saga has come to a peaceful end. BP was emancipated after four days in confinement. She emerged a bit loopy which probably accounted for her wandering too close to the hen house and earning herself a swift and decisive reaction from her sisters as the accompanying video shows. By her second day of freedom she was far more interested in scratching for beetles than sitting in the stuffy henhouse and for one full week we enjoyed six daily eggs.
Then, The Molting.
|Act normal, no one will notice.|
One of the more innocuous sisters – a little red hen so drama-free we haven’t even named her properly – has suddenly begun to molt. Molting is the embarrassing phase in the feather-rejuvenation process; while we do not speak of it in her earshot we can hardly fail to notice the feathers all over the yard or the thinning of her wings. The web says laying hens usually molt in the fall but prolonged heat can trigger it early. Until her new feathers come in we’ll politely ignore her suspended egg laying and severely declined state of attractiveness.
In the meantime, there has been much activity in the pallet garden:
|Little ink caps|