Working in the garden the other day, Ms Mova's sister-in-law pointed out that she thought the hens were outside the fence. "Oh no, they just look like they are," reassured Ms Mova. But sister-in-law's eyes were sharper and sure enough the little ladies had scraped away enough mulch from the fence bottom to find their way out onto the nature strip. (Now there's a misnomer. A strip of bare grass with two flimsy looking avocado trees and a non-productive jacaranda!) Once the ladies were back in their very lovely, long run the intrepid gardeners set about piling more mulch around the base of the fence reinforced by wood and tin to deter further houdini tricks. Those chickens certainly learn the magic!
In fact they do a very good trick of exchanging pens. The darker ones go to bed in one pen and seem to be in the other pen in the morning. Clever that! Some wise person did point out to me that perhaps they had been put away into the wrong pens, but I think not.
Still on the subject of chickens I arrived at work the other day and on glancing down as I do when about to lift my bike up the step into the building, I noticed a piece of eggshell on the ground. Funny, I thought, no trees for that bird to have had a nest in. Then I saw that the glass door was decorated with the remains of a thrown chicken egg. Do 'they' know what they do? Do 'they' realise how much effort went into the production of that exquisite ovoid? If 'they' had heard the cackling and encouragement that goes on with the laying, would 'they' have been so game to waste it? What a strange habit 'egging' is. Looking at this advice - better not!
The tank is great, already delivered and ready to go. Well sort of. Ideasman came up with the thought of building up bases for them so we could gravity feed a reticulation system. Sounds good. Is this similar to lying on the ground with a straw pouring liquid (possibly alcoholic) into your mouth?
