We’ve had our four chickens for well over three months now, and they’ve become thoroughly embedded in our life. Val has commented on how they’ve changed our early mornings (Musing on Rising). Even more evidently, they’ve altered our diet! I know it might seem obvious, but chickens do produce a lot of eggs – and you have to use them! The first ones seemed really precious, and I still feel that they mustn’t be wasted. After all, a chicken only produces at most one a day – and it’s hard to be really casual about something that seems to be the whole purpose of an animal’s life.
So, we eat omelettes and scrambled eggs lots more than in the past. I’ve started making cakes, largely because they contain eggs. Egg and chips appears on the menu more often as the weather gets colder (and never seems complete without baked beans, one of the two English foods I am trying to keep in stock – the other, love it or hate it, is Marmite). With only a twinge of regret at the extravagance, I use an egg to glaze the pastry of my apple pies.
Despite my culinary efforts, we still have what the French would politely call ‘une surabondance’. We view the increasing piles of full egg boxes with a mixture of pride and horror. Our dreams of a healthy Mediterranean diet have paled in the face of this cholesterol laden eggbundance mountain. We give eggs to Lin and Pete, we offer boxes to villagers we meet, and still the middle shelf of the fridge remains stubbornly egg-laden.
I think the problem comes from the immensely focused nature of the chickens. Their life only takes meaning from egg laying – and they pursue with an intense determination all that is necessary to achieve their destiny. Having said this, they show their drive in varied ways, because chickens are not all the same, indeed we see more and more differences between our four. While they may be not complex enough to have what we call a personality, they truly do each have their own ‘chickenality’.
Big chicken (her name is self explanatory – as Val explained in an earlier posting) is the most dedicated egg producer. Since we started keeping full records of the egg production (once again, Val’s obsessions are coming in handy!), Big has failed to lay on only two days out of 100. By any standard, that’s impressive! But of course, it comes at a price – for the other chickens. To keep up her fantastic production record, Big has to eat regularly. And plentifully. And this means she has to push the other competing chickens out of the way if there’s something tempting on offer.
If you go down into the chickens’ area during the day time, they spot you coming well before you open the gate. From all corners of the garden, they converge at top speed towards the ‘food temple’ – a simple construction made out of breeze blocks under which they worship the food gods. Big chicken is fastest and straightest. She hurtles across vegetation and rocks, like a veritable ‘eat-seeking missile’ (© Val). She (literally) throws herself into the food on offer, without even stopping to consider what it is, and whether she likes it. Truly a driven woman! And heaven help any chicken that she sees as an obstacle or – even worse – a rival. Hen-pecked shows its true meaning!
Close behind Big in the production stakes, with an 81% record, is Other Chicken. Originally named for her lack of identifying features, Other has continued to be somewhat undistinguished. She is, in many ways, the epitome of second-best. This is not to say she is in any sense inferior – it’s just that she’s not the best in any field . . . . . except . . . . trumpet noises. She’s the Louis Armstrong of our flock, with an instantly recognisable sound. She wanders around, trumpeting incidentally as she goes, proclaiming the virtues of mediocrity.
Pretty Chicken is undeniably pretty. She has a two-tone died blonde plumage style and in a human world she would be the butt of endless (deserved) Essex girl jokes. In the chicken world, she is just bottom of the pecking order. She lays attractive, slender, pale eggs, with the lightest average weight (48g – yes Val is that obsessive! I bought some special scales for her to weigh the eggs accurately . . . ) Only a 61% laying record – but not bottom of that heap.
Our worst layer, Naughty Chicken, is also my favourite. She’s the one who knows how to get out of the fence, and she can occasionally be found off on expedition across our neighbours’ land. She’s the one who killed the snake. She’s the one who terrorised Val in the early days by climbing on top of the hen house and threatening to jump on her back. She’s the one who happily pecks wheat out of my hand (ouch!). She may only have layed on 34% of days, but they are lovely large dark brown eggs. In a simple productive sense, Naughty’s probably not economically viable . . . . But she is beautiful and brilliant.
Chickens make excellent pets. Even without the eggs, they would provide endless entertainment. They also kill weeds and pests, while digging over the soil with their scratching. I really wish I had kept some in Derby. I want to persuade everyone to have some chickens of their own. Come on, you know it makes sense!
