A few weeks ago we acquired a new addition to the household – 3 lovely clucking hens. As we have an acre field and nothing is currently being done with it, we've had grand plans for a while to have chickens, sheep and a kitchen garden. The sheep are on hold temporarily as we need to improve the fencing around the edge of the field before we can let leaping lambs loose in there, but chickens are much easier to keep restrained (or so we hope!).
So a few weeks ago we bought and assembled a coop and then went to pick up 3 hens, 20 week old hybrids who have been named Emily, Charlotte and Anne. Not only have they settled in admirably, but they have very quickly won everybody over. They are producing 2 or 3 eggs a day and spend the rest of the time eating and trashing the run. Now this is where the fun began.
Although we have a large field, the initial plan was to have them in a coop with attached run, just for ease of managing them. However my mum, who is as soft hearted as they come, became besotted with the hens within hours. Both she and I keep finding reasons to go into the field and chat to them and take them little goodies, and very quickly the run just started to seem too small for them. So we hatched a plan to fence off an area for them, but this rapidly became problematic due to the risk of Fantastic Mr Fox grabbing hold of them and doing his worst. It quickly became obvious that both mum and I would be devastated if even a feather were ruffled on any of the girls so a super strong fence was needed. A trip to Cornwall Farmers ensued which resulted in the purchase of 50m of electrified poultry fence and all the accessories required to make it live!
So there we were, 9am on Bank Holiday Monday, in a blazing hot field, with 3 chickens desperate to get out of the run and investigate what we were doing. Tyson and Gabbi were pretty much engulfed in the fencing, with poles and guy ropes hanging off everywhere. After about 20 minutes of wrestling and rolling around it started to look like a square, and by the time my mum reappeared it was a fairly taut square and much less saggy than it had been. The chickens were released and couldn't believe their luck. Within seconds they were scratching and foraging in the grass and running around clucking and flapping their wings. A few minutes later then things started to get worse for the girls. The current was turned on. I spent quite a while trying to explain to them that they needed to stay away from the fence and should respect it if possible but they just didn't listen. Emily came first and went so far as to stick her head through one of the gaps in the fence. All good, until she tried to take her head back through the gap, got a little confused and caught her face on the wire. She took off and came as close to flying as she probably ever will. The other 2 girls ran around in circles in complete panic and then as Emily descended they rushed to her aid. Fortunately their brains are fairly small so within a few minutes they had forgotten. All good until Charlotte got over excited while scratching in the grass and backed her ample bottom into the fence. She shot forward as if the fox himself were behind her and then escaped to the safety of the coop.
I didn't watch any longer as it seemed a little mean to be laughing at their distress, so have no idea whether or not they have learnt to avoid the fence. I went back to put them to bed in the evening and they were happily digging a little hole together in the middle of the grass. They weren't that keen to go to bed though and had to be lifted into the coop so obviously the run is a success.
That excitement over we spent the afternoon sunbathing and surfing at Porthcurno – about as close to heaven as you can get. Smoothie and panini from the beach cafe, sun courtesy of a cloudless sky and lovely soft sand to mould a bed from.
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