Cheese and avacado omelets are a popular menu item at my house just now. I have four hens and two roosters. And four eggs a day. For a one-person household, that’s rather a lot. I only have a few neighbors, and most of them have chooks of their own, so I shall have to go further afield to find a willing recipient of free range eggs. I’m thinking local nursing home. I’ve also thought of a collective noun for eggs (well, they are animal, sort of) How about “A Glut of eggs”?
The chook report is a good one in other respects. I’m happy to say that Ella has taken on the mantle of Head Rooster with style. He looks after the hens in a most admirable way. For example, if I happen to be a bit slow in the morning, they all come to the front door to check on me (or to hustle me). When I appear, they scramble. I’ve never threatened them in any way, but they seem to know that they aren’t supposed to be in the courtyard. When I go outside to urge them through the gate, Ella positions himself between me and the hens, and tries to stare me down. He remains at his post until all the girls are safely out of the courtyard. I’m afraid to find out what he would do if I actually flapped my ams at them or something. My presence alone seems to be menacing enough. Unless they think I have food for them, and then I couldn’t beat them off with a stick. Especially if I have cheese. Okay, I spoil them. I buy shredded cheese for them, and they LOVE it.
My other rooster, Louie, is a month or so younger, and he is just learning to crow. I think he is a bit bashful about it as he only does it in the the wee hours, when no one is up and about, like about 3 a.m. Ella, on the other hand, doesn’t tune up until 4:30. So far there doesn’t seem to be any aggro between the two fellas, but that may just be because Louie isn’t yet old enough to be a rival. Time will tell.
Re the names: You already know about my little white bantam hen, called Blossom, dearie. And of course Ella is Ella Fitzgerald, and Louie is AKA Satchmo. I confess, I can’t tell the other three hens apart–all black Australorps–so they are known collectively as The Supremes.
Ella takes them all on big adventures around the property every day. I’ve never had chooks that range so far from the house, and in all directions. And he also is very good about letting the hens have the first go at the food. Even the cheese. He really does look after them. I don’t know whether he’s carrying out his other roosterly duties yet, but I’m beginning to suspect he is. Thank heavens the girls are (currently) laying their eggs in the hen house, where I can find them. I hope no one starts a nest of them out under a bush somewhere, in case they are fertile. That’s all I need–for one of them to come marching in one day ahead of a string of baby chicks. To make matters worse, just before I got these chooks, I asked my hairdresser to grow some Barnevelders for me–he’s a breeder of Barnevelders–and I asked for six. Now he’s got some incubating for me at the moment. I can’t say no, after I asked him to do it, so my flock may grow substantially in the next few months. Like double. I’m guessing my son, Adam, may inherit some of them.
I’m thinking this will qualify as a glut of chooks… MM