I'm all for bed-time routine, both in the house, and outside it - in as much as putting the hens 'to bed' is, obviously, part of the daily routine. We call it 'putting the hens to bed', when in reality, they've usually put themselves in, and just need the door shutting to keep them safe for the night.
This time of the year means locking them up when it's gone dark - usually from 4.30pm on-wards, although the days are already 'drawing out' and if the weather's nice they may still be hanging around outside at 4.40pm. They're definitely inside by 4.45pm, and the recent wet weather has meant I've left it until gone 5pm to be certain they're inside and to give myself the job of heading down the garden only once in my rain attire.
This careful planning and well trodden routine is sometimes put asunder by their hen-ladder having fallen down during the day - bad weather - or if one's gone in and somehow dislodged the hen-ladder for the remaining hen. Which is what I found around 5.30pm in the pitch dark on New Year's Day.
The hen-ladder fallen to the ground, one hen in and one hen out, not exactly distressed, but confused, as if by walking away from the scene and then returning, it would magically straighten itself into what was normally there. So I put the hen-ladder back and then retreated to give the hen space to approach.
I also shone my head-torch on the hen-ladder so the hen could see it was in place and would toddle along nice and quickly.... No. This was not to be. Backwards, and forwards, backwards and forwards... this was starting to do my head in. All that was left to do was start chasing it round the muddy patch of ground in the pitch black, but for my my head torch... and I've done that once too often!
She obviously wanted to go in, but, but, but. Ah-ha. My years of experience clicked in, and I tried to 'think like a hen'. I see now. Of course. It's not bedtime at all. It's daylight. Time to scratch and peck, scratch and peck....
I used to have just an ordinary torch, but my husband treated me to a head-torch after he'd babysat the hens at half-term, when I was 'up North' with the children. He thought it would be easier to manage the gate catch and hen-house door with two hand free instead of encumbered by holding a torch.... And I'm really pleased with it, and wonder why I'd not had one sooner. But I digress.
The beauty of my head torch is it had two levels of illumination. Thinking 'like a hen' I dimmed the beam, so the light shining towards the hen-ladder now resembled a dusk-like light, and 'hey presto!' the hen went up the hen-ladder and into the hen-house.
Took a little longer than usual, but we got there in the end.
Night night!
This time of the year means locking them up when it's gone dark - usually from 4.30pm on-wards, although the days are already 'drawing out' and if the weather's nice they may still be hanging around outside at 4.40pm. They're definitely inside by 4.45pm, and the recent wet weather has meant I've left it until gone 5pm to be certain they're inside and to give myself the job of heading down the garden only once in my rain attire.
This careful planning and well trodden routine is sometimes put asunder by their hen-ladder having fallen down during the day - bad weather - or if one's gone in and somehow dislodged the hen-ladder for the remaining hen. Which is what I found around 5.30pm in the pitch dark on New Year's Day.
The hen-ladder fallen to the ground, one hen in and one hen out, not exactly distressed, but confused, as if by walking away from the scene and then returning, it would magically straighten itself into what was normally there. So I put the hen-ladder back and then retreated to give the hen space to approach.
I also shone my head-torch on the hen-ladder so the hen could see it was in place and would toddle along nice and quickly.... No. This was not to be. Backwards, and forwards, backwards and forwards... this was starting to do my head in. All that was left to do was start chasing it round the muddy patch of ground in the pitch black, but for my my head torch... and I've done that once too often!
She obviously wanted to go in, but, but, but. Ah-ha. My years of experience clicked in, and I tried to 'think like a hen'. I see now. Of course. It's not bedtime at all. It's daylight. Time to scratch and peck, scratch and peck....
I used to have just an ordinary torch, but my husband treated me to a head-torch after he'd babysat the hens at half-term, when I was 'up North' with the children. He thought it would be easier to manage the gate catch and hen-house door with two hand free instead of encumbered by holding a torch.... And I'm really pleased with it, and wonder why I'd not had one sooner. But I digress.
The beauty of my head torch is it had two levels of illumination. Thinking 'like a hen' I dimmed the beam, so the light shining towards the hen-ladder now resembled a dusk-like light, and 'hey presto!' the hen went up the hen-ladder and into the hen-house.
Took a little longer than usual, but we got there in the end.
Night night!
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