I’ve not spent much time at my computer these last few days as we’ve been trundling around the Midlands looking for something to benefit our retirement, all will be revealed at a later date 🙂
Remembering the golden rule of not leaving home without it, my camera came with us. Looking for something interesting to photograph, I could have taken plenty of photos of the horrendous UK motorway system around Birmingham, the long traffic queues we were stuck in where the speed limit (motorway this is!!) was down to 40mph because of roadworks on the M5/M6. Or perhaps the many sections of country roads, that are brought to single file because of roadworks, did I say roadworks?? Hmmm, this has always puzzled me, you approach a roadwork sign, the lights turn green, you drive past………..past what??………..an area of road that is as peaceful as the fields in the distance. Perhaps these areas are roadrests, or roadsleeps, but they’re certainly not road’works’
You’re probably wondering where chickens come into this tale, well en route home after finalising our future plan, we called in a roadside farm shop to pick up some free range eggs, driving down the track it was the first (well second really, but those pics will be revealed later) time I felt the need for my camera.
There were hundreds of hens, all chattering away, I did try to join in, much to the amusement of passersby (and embarrassment to Tony :lol:) but not having a good grasp of hen language it was slightly one sided.
They all appeared very happy & healthy as they wandered around.
We bought half a dozen eggs, I thanked them (the hens that is) as we walked back to the car, they did reply, but not sure what it was they said.
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Aw, I am sure they understood. Maybe not so much what you said but that you were being nice 🙂
There is nothing as good as an egg from a free range chicken!
Looking forward to your other story in due course 🙂
Definitely agree with you there, we wouldn’t dream of buying any other eggs, for more reasons than the taste too 🙂
i agree with you – the taste is a wonderful bonus.
my parents had a hobby farm after my Dad retired, and their chickens had the run of the farmyard – and had access to grass if they wanted, yet shelter if they needed it. they were so tame. one of them would come running up to you and not budge until you picked her up and pet her, and told her what a good girl she was 🙂
How lovely that must have been for you, I have such a yearning to escape the rat race and live like that 🙂
on the one hand such a place is idyllic and charming. on the other hand it is a lot of work – and if you have the animals, it does tie you down to a place. it is a full-time occupation. they need to be fed and given fresh water daily. and if you plan to allow the broody hens to have their way and raise some little ones, the work becomes even more intense, as cute as those little ones are. my folks never had an incubator, they just let their hens take care of it, and most of the eggs always hatched. there were always a couple of roosters as well, as then the hens felt safe, and it was the best way to ensure that they were provided for. some roosters were incredible gentlemen. if there was a special treat found, such as some fresh apple peels or vegetable scraps, one of them called out for his hens, and they would come running. after they had their fill, then he would have some, too.
they actually have different calls for different situations. if there is danger, or if it is time to return to the coop at night, or if there is some good food to be had, the hens always knew what was going on. a rooster is the best guard dog 🙂
but not all is magical. there is also the cleaning out of the stall, the collecting, sorting and marketing of the eggs. i became quite involved with the latter part of that after my Dad got cancer and wasn’t able to deliver them into town anymore. but he still he went out to see his chickens right up until a day or so before he passed away.
if it is a place you love, and a commitment you want to make, then that is no hardship. many of my parents’ friends could not understand why they did it, and kept telling them they should retire and relax – but it was so relaxing for them to be out there. in fact, my mom still stayed on the farm on her own for three more years. it was simply home.
It sounds like your parents thoroughly enjoyed that way of life. Living where I live the dream has to remain a dream though.
So the hens call to each other do they? 🙂 I did wonder when watching them how they’d all get into the safety of the sheds at night, it appeared they had access to come and go as they pleased, but with the threat from foxes they would all have to be somewhere safe before dusk, otherwise the foxes would have a field day there
my parents really had a blast with it. it was something my Dad had dreamed of all his life, and i still remember him talking about retiring on a farm and my mom not being so convinced because of all the work involved. in the end both of them loved it, and i am happy that they were able to do so. my mom at 86 has retired to the city now for a number of years where she still keeps a small garden – growing enough green beans to do some canning and sharing with the neighbours, as well as lettuce, swiss chard, peppers, tomatoes and various fresh herbs and there are also blueberries and red currents.
at the farm, the roosters especially got the attention of the hens by his calls 🙂 it is also interesting that when a mother hen is raising her little ones, she makes different sounds when calling them to come for food, or to come under her wings for shelter, or to stand still where they were etc. quite fascinating.
there is an internal clock that also sends the hens off to their hutches at night. but generally they do seem more content when there is a rooster around, oddly enough. anyhow, i shold stop writing my posts in your comment boxes 🙂 have a good night!
No worries at all re your posts, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed reading them, your mum sounds an amazing lady 🙂
I see I need to write me a chicken post !! although I really came back to say how lovely it is to see so many chickens running around happily. Well, I assume they were happy seeing as you didn’t understand each other. 😉
Lovely photos, says the free range chicken owner 🙂 And I see they are all brown. Brown and black chickens lay much better than white or grey ones.
chickens normally say cluck cluck cluck cluck cluck cluck cluck cluck, which loosely translates to give us some more corn and some greens and then clear off out of it. Well, that’s what my chickens say.
Aha, that’s where I was going wrong, I was saying cluuuuuuck cluck cluck, cluuuuuuuck, I guess it is a universal language then and yours aren’t speaking Spanish cluck. 🙂
No you are probably right with the long first cluck. I will check today 😉
i am sure they said much more than pass the corn. 😀
never knew the personalities chickens could have until my parents had their farm. seriously.
Did you do the funky chicken when you clucked as well, could have made all the difference!
Ahhh! somewhere else I was going wrong, though I got some funny looks just clucking, dread to think of the consequences if I’d danced too 😆
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