September 3, 2011 Broody Again and Again and Again...
I let the clan out for a bit of free ranging today. My baby girl, Una (The only egg that hatched under Bindy last time she was broody) is now just 6 weeks old. She was running around peeping fit to be tied. "Where's My Momma!!! Momma? Mom! Mommy???"
I ask myself, "Where is Bindy???" That's a good question. I walk down to the coop and was greeted by much screeching and threatening to gouge out my eyes, and I think - "Really? You've only laid 4 eggs since the last hatch! Come On!"
What to do???
September 4, 2011 the light bulb moment
11:30 pm and I can't sleep. My husband's voice rings in my head. "We don't need any more chickens!" but I can't let her just sit down there on those golf balls... it isn't natural. I sneak out of bed and don my headlamp and my crocs. I head down to the coop in my favorite pink night shirt. I am greeted with much screeching and threatening to gouge out my eyes, and I think - "This is going to hurt me more than it'll hurt her. I gently pick her up, nest, golf balls and all and move her to the broody pen where I stuff her screeching, puffed up body into the Rubbermaid tub she has a love/hate relationship with. I leave the coop and I swear I hear her say, "I hate you." as I sneak in the back door. I hurry back to bed and snuggle in. My husband whispers in the darkness, "Where did you just go?" I say, "To meet with my boyfriend... go back to sleep honey." He says, "Ha! You expect me to believe that? You were out moving Bindy weren't you?" I feigned sleep and began snoring very loud.
September 5, 2011 Just a Few Eggs
10:00PM and I'm heading back down to the coop with just a few eggs to put under Bindy. I have let my husband in on my big secret and he reluctantly agrees to one more small brood. With the Mission Impossible Theme running through my head we stealthily make our way to the back of the property. As we approach the chicken run we hear an ominous "Get Out!!" coming from the broody pen. My husband asks, "Did you hear that?" I can tell he's scared so I try to put his fears to rest. "It's probably just a poltergeist or something harmless." I say. I didn't have the heart to tell him it was Bindy letting us know she sensed a disturbance in the Force. We open the pen door and I lifted the lid on the Rubbermaid container. I kiss my husband and tell him to let the boys know I love them if I don't make it out. I then start shoving eggs under her butt as fast as I can without getting burned or maimed in the process. My husband decides that now is the time to become observant and says, "8 eggs??? I thought you said just a few more chicks!" I say, "Define Few!" He turns and heads for the house. I think he's just grateful I made it out alive.
September 10, 2011 Status Quo
I would have written sooner, but I was recovering from the beating I took while candling on September 8th. Seven out of eight eggs are viable and showing definite signs of occupancy. Every day I limp to the broody pen and every day I am chewed out by an Australian with hormone problems. Yesterday she threatened to skin my Pyrenees. I totally believe she's capable. My husband has agreed to "Broody Duty" today. I wish him Godspeed.
I let the clan out for a bit of free ranging today. My baby girl, Una (The only egg that hatched under Bindy last time she was broody) is now just 6 weeks old. She was running around peeping fit to be tied. "Where's My Momma!!! Momma? Mom! Mommy???"
I ask myself, "Where is Bindy???" That's a good question. I walk down to the coop and was greeted by much screeching and threatening to gouge out my eyes, and I think - "Really? You've only laid 4 eggs since the last hatch! Come On!"
What to do???
September 4, 2011 the light bulb moment
11:30 pm and I can't sleep. My husband's voice rings in my head. "We don't need any more chickens!" but I can't let her just sit down there on those golf balls... it isn't natural. I sneak out of bed and don my headlamp and my crocs. I head down to the coop in my favorite pink night shirt. I am greeted with much screeching and threatening to gouge out my eyes, and I think - "This is going to hurt me more than it'll hurt her. I gently pick her up, nest, golf balls and all and move her to the broody pen where I stuff her screeching, puffed up body into the Rubbermaid tub she has a love/hate relationship with. I leave the coop and I swear I hear her say, "I hate you." as I sneak in the back door. I hurry back to bed and snuggle in. My husband whispers in the darkness, "Where did you just go?" I say, "To meet with my boyfriend... go back to sleep honey." He says, "Ha! You expect me to believe that? You were out moving Bindy weren't you?" I feigned sleep and began snoring very loud.
September 5, 2011 Just a Few Eggs
10:00PM and I'm heading back down to the coop with just a few eggs to put under Bindy. I have let my husband in on my big secret and he reluctantly agrees to one more small brood. With the Mission Impossible Theme running through my head we stealthily make our way to the back of the property. As we approach the chicken run we hear an ominous "Get Out!!" coming from the broody pen. My husband asks, "Did you hear that?" I can tell he's scared so I try to put his fears to rest. "It's probably just a poltergeist or something harmless." I say. I didn't have the heart to tell him it was Bindy letting us know she sensed a disturbance in the Force. We open the pen door and I lifted the lid on the Rubbermaid container. I kiss my husband and tell him to let the boys know I love them if I don't make it out. I then start shoving eggs under her butt as fast as I can without getting burned or maimed in the process. My husband decides that now is the time to become observant and says, "8 eggs??? I thought you said just a few more chicks!" I say, "Define Few!" He turns and heads for the house. I think he's just grateful I made it out alive.
September 10, 2011 Status Quo
I would have written sooner, but I was recovering from the beating I took while candling on September 8th. Seven out of eight eggs are viable and showing definite signs of occupancy. Every day I limp to the broody pen and every day I am chewed out by an Australian with hormone problems. Yesterday she threatened to skin my Pyrenees. I totally believe she's capable. My husband has agreed to "Broody Duty" today. I wish him Godspeed.
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This is great! More! 
