I can't believe the peeps are already five weeks old.
They all look like mini-chickens running around now. Some mini-er than others however. My barred rock is actually smaller than my bantam Silkie. How can that be?!
Papa Bear put wheels on the coop this weekend, which means we no longer have to be lumberjacks to move it to a new spot every day. The wheels are elevated unless you push down on the lever to drop them and raise up the coop. It's a simple but genius solution.
Have I told you lately how much I appreciate PB's out-of-the-coop thinking? Well, I do. So now you know.
I had two chicks roosting on my knees tonight, so I snapped a few macros.
My new chicken book, Chick Days says these feathers covering the rump are called "fluff." I love that. That's exactly what I've been calling them.
No chicken would be complete without their shanks, toes and claws. I'm always in awe how I can pick up a chick (or one hops into my hand) and their feet feel cold. Then they settle down on my finger or my knee, and a minute later, their feet feel hot.
But it's really their feathers that transfix me. I could watch a chicken preen for hours. How magnificent to be covered in such plummage.
I know many view chickens as just a packet of potential food. But I have come to enjoy them as much more than that.
What's scratching your fancy these days?
They all look like mini-chickens running around now. Some mini-er than others however. My barred rock is actually smaller than my bantam Silkie. How can that be?!
Papa Bear put wheels on the coop this weekend, which means we no longer have to be lumberjacks to move it to a new spot every day. The wheels are elevated unless you push down on the lever to drop them and raise up the coop. It's a simple but genius solution.
Have I told you lately how much I appreciate PB's out-of-the-coop thinking? Well, I do. So now you know.
I had two chicks roosting on my knees tonight, so I snapped a few macros.
My new chicken book, Chick Days says these feathers covering the rump are called "fluff." I love that. That's exactly what I've been calling them.
No chicken would be complete without their shanks, toes and claws. I'm always in awe how I can pick up a chick (or one hops into my hand) and their feet feel cold. Then they settle down on my finger or my knee, and a minute later, their feet feel hot.
But it's really their feathers that transfix me. I could watch a chicken preen for hours. How magnificent to be covered in such plummage.
I know many view chickens as just a packet of potential food. But I have come to enjoy them as much more than that.
What's scratching your fancy these days?
2 comments:
How did PB make the wheel? I need wheels that raise and lower, but have no idea how to go about it.
He has totally revamped this design and it works a lot better now - you can see some pictures of it on the post titled "how to move chickens" from June 2012. He now puts the wheels on an axle and a short piece of wood so they can swing up out of the way when it sits, or swing under the coop to move it. Works great!
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