Miss Broody's had a Relapse

Actually, two relapses. 

Last week, just when I thought our broody hen was on track again, she was back to her old tricks. For a couple of days in a row, I'd found Miss Broody sitting in the nest box again. In my May 13 post, I explained about broody hens--they're either trying to hatch eggs, or their hormones have tricked them into thinking they are hatching eggs when they're just sitting on a nest. 

Ruffled feathers!

Actually, a broody hen doesn't really sit, she settles her whole self into the bedding, fluffs out her feathers, and sinks her head into her chest. Her eyes are half closed, and she'll generally act like she's in a stupor. But if you disturb her, she'll squawk or even hiss at you! 

Plus: as far as I can tell broody hens stop laying. 

Anyway, some days ago, finding Miss Broody on the nest, I lifted her out and set her out in the yard with the other 4 hens. She seemed to settle into her normal chicken behavior, scratching the ground and wiggling into the dirt for a dust bath--an especially good sign was that she ate heartily. She joined the other hens on the roost that night too, so I was hopeful she was "cured."

She wasn't. For the last 5 or 6 days, her broody behavior has really settled in. We've closed the nest boxes after laying time, but then she'll sit on the floor of the coop. We've moved her out of the coop into the caged pen, the yard, and into the orchard, but every chance she gets she runs into the coop. So we've closed off the coop in the daytime. Denied a nesting spot, once she's emerged from her broody stupor she'll join the other hens.

But she absolutely will not sleep on the roost. At bedtime, several nights in a row, John and I have lifted her up onto the roost. The night before last, he tried it 5 times. Last night, I tried twice. But she has immediately jumped down and settled back on the floor.

I've found some "chicken whisperers" online, with lots of advice for "breaking" (yep, that's the terminology) a brooder, which includes what we've already tried. One remedy we haven't attempted is a cold-water bath (apparently a broody hen's body temperature runs high, and bringing it down can help). Also, putting her in what one chicken expert calls "chicken jail": isolating the hen in a dog kennel without any bedding. 

Sigh. I hope it won't come to either of those. We've only had a few eggs from the whole flock all week, so I suspect a brooder's pheromones might be impacting the other hens' egg production. Which is a much larger problem than 1 hen not laying.

It's been quite a lesson for me, discovering a hen's implacable instinct, and that I, the puny human, has very little influence on it! I'll let you know how Miss Broody gets along...and if you have some advice, I hope you'll share!

Needless to say, with all the weeds in the garden needing attention, babysitting Miss High-Maintenance Broody is impacting my precious gardening time!  

Spring Crops: You Win a Few, You Lose a Few

Seed stalks on spinach 

Spring gardening is so weather-dependent I try not to expect too much. 

So I'm trying not to be too disappointed that my spring spinach has gone to seed already. Last year, we were eating spinach salads well into June. But this spring…sigh. After a two-week very warm spell in April and only a minimal harvest, every last plant in the bed has bolted--which also means the leaves have stopped growing.

The slugs have gotten to many of my newly sown seedlings too. We’re in the middle of an unseasonable cool spell—it felt a bit wintry yesterday evening, at 42 degrees—so maybe the remaining seedlings won’t bolt too soon.

John, ever the optimist, just transplanted 4 zucchini starts into a bed. We generally don't plant zucchini until June, and they're sure to shiver with the current chill. But after the slugs ate all our seedlings last summer, at least these 4 zuchs have a head start!

On the winning side, our asparagus is up and running…no, it's sprinting! For John and me, every dinner is a feast these days—we pile our plates high with sautéed or roasted spears, with enough to share with my sister and our wonderful neighbors. Which makes up for our paltry spinach!

Strawberries are thriving

Last year’s strawberries were kind of a bust. A very small harvest, possibly due to some kind of fungus. Luckily, I planted new strawberry crowns in all new beds, and these plants are super-vigorous and now setting fruit. So if this cool weather doesn’t last long, we should be seeing our first ripe berries in 3 weeks or so...that is, if the mice and voles don't eat them first.

It’s harvest time for rhubarb—which happily, produces in cool weather, hot spells, and everything in between. For breakfast, I’m enjoying rhubarb stewed with last summer’s marionberries and a spoonful of honey. I just picked an armful of rosy, red spears, and envision a strawberry- rhubarb crisp in the not too distant future. 

Rhubarb is so easy to grow and very resilient, and organic rhubarb is about $4 or $5/lb. in the store. So if you are a fan and have a few square feet of extra space in your yard, why not plant a crown?

Free ebook!

You’ll find tips for growing these crops and many more in my free gardening guide, Little Farm in the Garden… Available at your favorite online retailer or at susancolleenbrowne.com! 

Broody, Bullied and…Back?

With our third little flock of hens, John and I had hit the jackpot. Or so we thought.

Sweet and easygoing hens

For months, our five Buff Orpingtons, an especially gentle breed of laying hens, were model chickens. They’d settled into their new home without a glitch, started laying right away, and were cooperative and copacetic—a far cry from our previous flock, with the three savage black Sexlink hens that nearly killed our poor Buffy. (At the time, our lone Buff Orpington.)

Anyway, we thought we had it made. Until one of the hens went broody.

Which, as I understand it, means that a hen’s mama instinct kicks in, and I’ve heard Buff Orpingtons are especially prone to broodiness. A hen will sit on the nest in a sort of somnolent state, from sunrise to sunset—although if you try to get her off the nest, she’ll hiss at you. The problem is, she stops laying eggs, and often won’t get off the nest to eat or drink.

This particular hen seemed to be less vigorous than the others, and had developed slower (her comb was sort of shrunken, and pink instead of a pale red). When she wouldn’t get off the nest, I bodily lifted her off, and placed her in the yard with the other four. After a few days, she seemed to get the idea and rejoined the flock.

Then last month it happened again—despite all of our Orpingtons looking exactly alike, I’m almost positive it was the same girl. She’d been in the middle of a heavy molt while the other girls had molted in late winter. From my research, I gather than when a hen is out of sync with the flock, it can lead to problems.

Our Alpha girl, who seems to set the agenda of the flock (and strangely enough is the smallest hen!) began chasing this hen away from the feeder. And often hassling her out in the yard. Not pecking her or anything, but this more passive hen seemed to be intimidated enough to hide out in the coop most of the day.

So there was poor Miss Broody, spending her days in a nest box again.

I knew she’d likely stopped laying because I’d often discover her on an empty nest, and our egg production was 2-3 eggs per day inside of 4 or 5.

So I went back to the drill. Gently lifting her off the nest (despite her objections), setting her out in the yard with the others, and giving her a little feed on the ground. Then closing the nest guard to keep her out.

For about two weeks, she’d go right back into the coop and either settle onto the floor, or stand next to the nests, squawking plaintively. Then a few days ago, when it was nearly dark, I discovered that she had settled onto the floor for the night—apparently too intimidated to claim her spot on the roost. I guessed she’d been sleeping on the floor for some time.

My conclusion: the other hens had decided she was an outsider.

I carefully lifted her to the roost. She seemed unsure and shaky, and after I stepped out I heard a thump and peeked back in. She’d jumped back down to the floor.

So, same drill: I set her back on the roost, and amazingly, there she stayed. The next night, finding her on the floor again, I once again set her on the roost. Hesitantly, she scooted closer to the other four girls.

The next day, she was spending a few hours outside with the other four. That night, when I found her on the floor and got her onto the roost, she not only scooted a little closer, but actually nestled against the huddled-up foursome.

The day after that, she was bellying up to the feeder and eating away; today, she burst out of the pen with the other girls to peck at the scratch John always tosses out every morning.

We’ll be watching her carefully, to make sure she doesn’t resume her bad habits—that she has fully rejoined the flock. But for now, Miss Broody is back!