27 - Plucking Madam Attitude

I have recently been made aware that the older family, the original 5 Chickens: Monsieur and Madam Poulet, Heather, Feather and Attitude are 10 years old, which in itself is quite an age for chickens. This interesting fact in itself maybe one of the reasons why they are all a little bit tetchy from time to time, with a high level of intolerance for the four youngsters. Madam Attitude is now looking half naked as she or the other chickens are pulling out her feathers. Not an attractive site and in places looks quite bald. She seems in good health but as always very distant and very much a loner. As always she keeps herself to herself and forever checking to see what's going on over her shoulder...

Madams Heather & Feather continue to groom Monsieur Poulet and carry that smug appeal of being superior in the Hen Pen hierarchy of hen power. Also they are not wanting to integrate with the youngsters but continue to peck them regardless for no apparent reason. Pitiful to see really because the youngsters are now larger than inherited five. In Chicken language I am told this is called the Pecking Order...

Monsieur and Madam Poulette are as always a handsome couple, she has a quite reserve for the cockerel. which is returned with mutual respect (with no hanky panky going on). Unlike Heather and Feather, Madam Poulette is extremely tolerant of the youngster's and enjoys their company and shares any food without pecking them. Generally a lovely old bird who will be a great grand hen one day, probably to one of the youngster's off spring...

It goes without saying that it is not in our prime interest to indulge in the taste of the older family. They are still great as layers and produce more eggs than we can eat, otherwise these birds will be too tough to eat I am sure....

The youngsters are growing very big, my favourite hen, newly named: Princess Poulette is such a sweetheart and follows me around regardless. It has been known many time for her to rub herself against my leg, much like a cat would, when I go in feed them. She easily weighs 4lb and the other three youngsters are not far outside of this weight. These three we have raised so that we can eat them-----but in all honesty, I am still not up for that just yet. As for Princess Poulet I hope to breed from her with the current cockerel (Monsieur Poulet) - that is if he is interested...

Note: If anyone knows the average age of chickens before they expire the natural world, I would love to know, please leave MSG on comments below.
Note 2: Any information about feather plucking in chickens would be appreciated, please leave MSG on comments below.

23 - Where's Madam Attitude

The next morning Louisa, Emily and myself go to Hen Pen garden to feed the chickens their daily 2 bowls of Petit Dejeuner. The chickens scramble to get to the best and tastiest morsels with the usual scrapping between the old and young chickens. It doesn't take me long before I realise that Madam Attitude is missing, we search everywhere under the clumps of grass, in the coups. Nowhere to be seen; I am getting fearful at this stage. Usually it is Madam Attitude that is first on the scene whenever food is about. They all know my voice now and respond quickly but not this time after calling for her several times. We look for holes or gaps in the fencing - the fencing is secure, we continue searching under the clumps of grass for hideaways but nothing. I am perplexed, her whereabouts is a mystery and start to think possibly a fox had taken her even though there is no obvious sign of a struggle or black feathers laying about...

Suddenly, Curry Man appears on the scene and says, "What's going on" a regular saying he used to give for the television soap Eastenders. I put two and two together and came up with DEATH. "Its you, isn't it, you killed Madam Attitude" I shout at him with pointed finger. "No", "now would I" Curry Man says calmly. "Come on" I continue, "time to put your hands up on this one, have you killed Attitude"? I am getting really angry and finding it difficult to stay calm. "No Darling" he says and turns and walks away, adding "I have a curry to sort out for tonight". Rilled by this last comment, I run after Curry Man and slap him on the shoulder with my saucer size hand. He's laughing at me and all I could say was "How could you, how could you, how could you"....

At some point Max slipped into Hen Pen garden un-noticed, he too is searching for Madam Attitude. I can see him kneeling down on the grass to the far corner of Hen Pen garden and suddenly he shouts "Over here Carol Irene" I really wish he would not call me that name, I mutter to myself and make a note that I really must tackle him on that later. "She is over here sitting on a large amount of eggs" he shouts out eagerly. "Excellent Max" and we all trundle over to see where she had been hiding. Madam Attitude had dug out a large hollow under a large clump of grass, it would be easy to miss her unless the grass was lifted or separated, the grass covered her completely. In fact she looked quite cosy. "See I told you so, I didn't kill her" says the indignant Curry Man. "OK, OK, I apologise for jumping to the wrong conclusion" I say feeling exasperated. Max gently coaxes Madam Attitude off the nest and we are astounded at how many eggs there are. Max, starts to count them, which is easy for him as he is an Accountant (just qualified). "Looks like 9 eggs, no 13, no 17, no no sorry there are 20 eggs altogether, that's simply amazing". We are all amazed at such a large quantity of eggs in one nest. "The eggs are all different shapes and sizes" Max continues and puts two and two together and reconciling the differences, states that "All the hens have been dumping their eggs in the one basket - boom boom".... Oh dear...Oh dear Max

No knowing how long the eggs had been sitting in the nest, we destroyed them all. Have you had a similar experience? if so just click on comment below, we would lover to hear about it.

22 - Hooray - They have arrived

The day has come at long last, Louisa, Emily and Max have arrived for a weeks holiday. We greet each with screams of joy and excitement, hugs and kisses. Its been 3 months since we moved to France but it feels like 3 years, missing my family is definately the worst thing I have had to bear since the move. But anyway, they are all here now and we must make the most of this precious time together...

"A cup of tea all round" I say expectantly. "No, please lets see the chickens first" says Emily who's a great lover of all animals. "No, I would like to see round the house first" says Louisa. Louisa being a little prone to allergic reactions where animals is concerned is a little cautious. "Where's the Tractor" says Max... At that point Himself walks through the door saying. "Who mentioned Tractor". We are all laughing and talking at the same time, with more hugs and kisses. We do the rounds of the house and garden and they are all suitable impressed, love it all and think we got very good value for money. "Certainly could never get anything like this in he UK for the money" say Maximus. They all utter there agreements on that one. "Now, what about the tractor I have heard so much about. I'm for the first go" Max insists to Tractor Man...

The two boys go off and play tractor games and talk engine oil, combustion techniques and so on. I can see Monsieur Poulet straining his neck with a hand to his ear, desparately wanting to be one of the boys and join in. He is obviously disappointed that he cannot be part of the team by the way he is pacing up and down. He settles for second best and shouts to his mate near by, who returns his call and so it goes on back and forth...

My daughters meet up with the chickens in Hen Pen garden and they all get to know each other. The older chickens being more cautious towards visitors than the youngsters who easily want to be patted and generally enjoy the attention given. The little ones are really still quite coy, afraid even and prefer to be by themselves, sticking together. Madam Poulet is once again, full on to brooding but for now I take away any eggs that she may have laid, without picking her up. Today, no eggs have been laid, which is a bit surprising but she is happy just to sit on her nest. My daughters are more natural with the chickens than me, I observe, the hens going to Louisa and Emily easily to be stroked and patted. I monitor their techniques and say to myself, I must surely be able to do that. My mental note pad to hand, the technique has been stored...

I explain how the older hens are egg layers and that the younger ones fatteners. "What do you mean fatteners" ask Emily, readily looking concerned. "You are not going to eat them, are you"? "Yes but No" I stammer unknowingly. "Himself, wouldn't kill them to eat - would he"? There's a desparation in Emily's voice about our intentions and I am not sure of my answer. Louisa joins in "What do you mean Yes but No"? I explain about the good life senario and how obvious it is, that rearing your own animals to eat, is by far the best method of knowing exactly what you are eating. The benefits are paramount in taste and quality in comparison to battery raised hens for supermarket chains. In addition, we are giving these chickens a very good life style in return by the way they are kept, fed and looked after. "So you are going to kill and eat them" says Louisa. "It is difficult for me" I say truthfully "At this stage, I truly do not know. I would like to think I could but there is still very much a townie about me". At this point Himself - raises his voice from the mens Tractor meeting point and shouts "They are going to make excellent curries, just leave it all to me"....

16 - You are not eating my girls

Image below - Sugar Plum

"Hello Sugar Plum, its me Scrum" I say to my husband, who is in England working. "Can't wait for you to come back home, I have a terrific surprise for you" I say enthusiastically. "Really, what's that then"? - "sorry can't say, as I said its a surprise". "Give us a clue then" he says sounding exasperated. "Nope". "If its anything to do with Tractors or Food, I'm interested, am I close" he says. Oh dear he is close - but I'm not for having my girls eaten. "You will see tomorrow, when you get back here" rapidly, I change the subject and remind him that his Sister Pauline and John our Brother Inlaw are arriving in a couple of days time and start to talk menu's. He bounces back "will they like the surprise". "Undoubtedly but Sugar Plum can we please talk menu's"?...

Sugar Plum arrives back home on time and he is beaming from ear to ear. "So where is this surprise" he says. "Whatever happened to Hello darling, how have you been, big hugs and kisses" I say, with fist clenched, "Oh yes, I forgot", then wraps his engineering arms around me, pats me with his dinner plate size hands and plants a smackeroo on my forehead. I wriggle out of this vice like grip, grab one of his dinner plate hands and drag him out to Hen Pen Garden. "There you are, our four new babies, all hens". I smile enthusiastically, hoping that he will be pleased with the family increase. The four new chicks were as yesterday huddled together by the fence, still feeling insecure and possible afraid of the older chickens. "Don't you think they look so cute and they are only eight weeks old". "Yes, you have done well and they look in good nick, but more importantly, when can we eat them"? I give him that How very dare you look and say as much. "No one is for eating my chicks", I elbow him in annoyance and start to walk away. Oh no - here come those dinner plates again but I walk a little faster. "Scrummy" - he says "stop, lets just talk about this sensibly". I know what sensible is with this guy all black and white, and engineering matter in between. He wants to eat these lovely chicks and I cannot argue with him, we had the "living the good life" conversations many time before we moved to France. Right now I just cannot be faced with this side of the good life. It was so much easier to go into Tesco's and pick up a ready prepared chicken to roast, even if they were battery hens. "I must get my head out of this time warp", I tell myself. He continues but I am not wanting the discussion, I know its me that has to get real and also how do I approach this with my lovely daughters who will be here in two weeks time "Chickens taste so much better if you rear them yourself" he persists, "and so says everyone else Sugar Plum, but for now haven't you got a dead tree to chop down"?...

14 - Increasing the Girls

I am now at the stage where I am feeling a little more comfortable with the residence of Hen Pen and don't fear so much that they will peck me to death. Picking the chickens up is still something that I cannot get to grips with, so for now that part of being A Chicken Maid is on hold. I don't see it as a totally necessary act, but for now I just enjoy getting to know my Feathered Friends. Madam Poulette continues to be broody but comes off the nest each day for about 15 mins, during this time I endeavour to collect any eggs she may have laid and don't worry myself silly about picking her up anymore..

Today is Market day and its going to be a big one I am told, I am keen to get there early to see what's going on in Chicken Corner. Feeling a little more confidant this time, as I know more or less what to expect but again it is very hot, so I take with me my face mask and drinking water to avoid gagging and retching. I have arranged to meet up with "The Experts" in the hope that they will teach me the basics in identity. Again it is very popular with the Brits and the French with people buying all sorts, Guinea Fowl, Turkey's, Chicken's etc. Much of the poultry looks really ugly and dirty but most of all very smelly - not my favourite place to be and already I am starting to gag, so I walk away. {B} shouts to me "There's some nice 8 week old fattener's here Carol", "really" I say. "you don't want anymore layers" he adds, "as you will have too many eggs to cope with". I agree with {B} and not sure why I am agreeing anything but these small chickens really do look cute. I have been told that all the chickens are ex battery, instantly I want to rescue them all but I settle for four eight week old chicks; two white and two tan and been assured that they are all hens and not cockerels. The stall holder puts the hens in a good size box by my insistence, don't want my birds couped up unnecessarily in a small box. She ties a piece of string round the box and hands the box to me. As I pick up the box the first thing to happen is that the chicks all slide down to one end as the box tilted. Instantly the chicks are alarmed and start to chirrup like mad. "No problem", I say to the stall holder smiling, who was watching me carefully. My pride being dented due to my mis management of the situation and instantly realising that the smaller box would have been more ideal for transporting my new born's. I tilt the box up hoping for a better balance within the contents but then, they all slide to the other end of the box. I smile and wipe the sweat from my brow, gagging and desperately wanting to run a mile but I stood my ground. {A} suggested that I just pick up the box and carry it to my car! yes I had thought of that but I know how these little lovelies can peck. They have room enough to put there heads out of the hand made air holes and then I would be in even more trouble with the obvious pecking order.

Driving home I wished I had just settled for buying vegetables but here I have four little chickens chirping away in the back of the car, that I have to release into their new Hen Pen home...yet another obstacle to overcome...

10 - The Coups

Image - Coup 1 left, Coup 2 right

Since day one, I have not been happy with the state of the coups. On the ground the coups are covered with 2" thick carpet of saw dust and chicken poo. Stinks like buggary and the cob webs are black and hanging limp like in long thick strands upto 18". "Yuk" I hate every time I have to walk into the coups, in fact I dread it almost as much as attempting to pick up a chicken. Reminds me of the film "Indiana Jones", or worse. I have already mentioned this to the experts A & B and they have said leave it for now and we will access the situation within the next week, "Its probably really alright" says Bernie "just hold in there a little longer". "I will", I promise. I have already run this by Sweetie Pie but he says "its fine, you worry too much. Besides the set up those chickens have is more like a 5 star hotel". "Yeh But", I respond "perhaps if you were in Health and Safety for Chickens, you might feel differently". Sweetie Pie gives me a big engineering hug and plants an affectionate kiss on the top of my head. "Yeh but.. would you like to tread that muck bare footed" Got him at last - as I polish my nails on my t-shirt!! this is a man that would not tread sand at the sea side, let alone a chicken coup. Sweetie Pie responds "I would if I were a chicken"....

7 - How to Handle a Chicken

Image - Man and Toy

"Bonjour Monsieur Poulet, Bonjour Madam Poulette, how are we all today then" my Husband-sugar plum says, as we both approach Hen Pen. Apart from a bit of flapping of wings, he gets little other in response "How are we coming along with the eggs, how many eggs today girls?" he chatters on, as if he has known them all his life...

After a little coaxing Sugar Plum has succumbed to my wishes and is about to show me how to handle a chicken. First we go into Coup 2 and the black hen is as always in the far corner in solitary confinement of her own choice. Malcolm shoo's her out and as always she squawks like mad and makes a dash for it. One look at his size 13 shoes and she is not for an argument with this guy - and I don't blame her!! "Hmm, no eggs in here". We then go into Coup 1, its the smaller of the two coups and where the chickens sleep at night. Madam Poulette is once again sitting cosily in the nest. "Right then, this is how you handle a chicken" Madam Poulette has an eye on him and I wonder how she is going to react. He spreads his hands out and then covers her back and wings and then slowly lifts her out of the nest. He then tucks her under his arm and strokes her tendily. Sugar Plum, then encourages me to stroke her, which I do and and make the comment on how soft she is. "She's lovely" he says "a really nice bird, you won't have any problem with her"...

Madam Poulette had been sitting on four eggs. -I sigh "A result at last". On close examination of the eggs, I notice that all the eggs are different sizes and shapes. This time we do not eat them, as we cannot be sure on how long they have been there...

"Tractor time" Malcolm says. "No, No" I say. I am still concerned that I have not handled the chicken myself yet" I argue. "You will be fine" he says , "have a go tomorrow and see how you get on, its really very easy". "But Sugar Plum, you will not be here for the next 4 days" I say, feeling exasperated - he has to go back to work in England. He is walking toward his new toy as he is talking to me and I know that its all a bit hopeless persuing the cause any longer. "Think what your daughters will say, when they arrive if they know you are afraid to pick up a chicken"...He has a point, I have to get a grip on this silly situation and be strong, can't have my daughters laughing at me, now can I...

4. Miss Attitude

Image - Madam Attitude

"So you are in here again" I say to the little black hen. She appears to be a bit of a loner, preferring to sit quietly in the furthest corner of coup 2 on her own. Can't see too much of what's going on in here as its quite dark, I scan the ground for eggs. "No eggs again today ". I go up to her and talk gently, once again trying to gain trust. She is not for moving, so I coax her gently with my foot, in the hope that she will not bite my leg off - she squawks like mad at me and runs out of the coup. She continues to squawk as she runs several times round Hen Pen garden. "What a load of fuss about nothing" I muse and decide she definitely has attitude. I look down to where she had been squatting, definately no eggs...

I contact a couple we know quite well Amanda and Bernie who will be moving here permanently in a few days to ask them just one question. I want to asked a million questions but I know they are packing and time is valuable to them just now. They have full hands on knowledge on Poultry generally, as they have kept all sorts over the years. Amanda answers the phone. "The hens are not laying eggs", "do you think there is a problem"? Amanda goes into depth many possible reasons why they may not be laying. Her first question is "What are you feeding them"? "Corn" I reply. "They need vitamins, shells, grits", "give them any left over food you may have, they are scavengers and will eat anything". I want to kick myself for not realising the obvious...."Thanks Amanda you are a gem"...

I rush full speed to the fridge and prepare a tasty overdue cuisine for my lovely half starved feathered friends. "Getting there" I say to myself with a new found confidence

3. Getting to grips with reality

Image - Heather & Feather

I had already established that the four hens are egg layers and not for eating but so far nothing. I read up in my poultry book the whys and wherefore's but I do not see any obvious answers. They all look healthy enough to me, eating the daily corn and drinking plenty of water. However, there are a couple of things that I am not sure about though; one is that the two coups do not look very clean. Secondly should the grass really be waist high? I jot these notes down in my mental note pad for further research...

I have always wanted to be a Country Girl, my true self would lean in that direction, being a good Brownie and Girl Guide but the reality and truth of the situation now is that I am a 95% townie. More and more I am realising I know next to nothing, in at the deep end and too afraid even to touch the birds. No!! I don't think they are going to bite my arm off, just a tad afraid of being pecked to death!! I observe that Madam Poulet is sitting in the same and only nest box again, "this can't be right", I mutter softly. I talk softly to her, coaxing her to trust me "Uppy Duppy madam, time for walkies" and gently stroke her back. She squawks loudly and Yes, you guessed it - near bites my arm off. I jump back in total alarm, stumbling over the corn feeder, dust flies up from the ground. I was in hell and could not escape quickly enough. Malcolm takes one look at me as I near fall through my entrance into the kitchen "What's up darling, you look a bit frazzled", "Oh nothing much Dear Heart, just trying to be a 100% Country girl"...

1. Inherited Chickens

Image - Monsieur Poulet

Today we moved into our newly purchased property that came with five chickens in Normandy. Having done the deed with the Notaire (Solicitor). We then ventured back to the farm mid afternoon with the Estate Agent and previous owner {N} and his wife {C} for a small celebration. A few friends and neighbours also joined us for a drink or two. What a great evening it turned out to be, with music, champagne and lots of laughter...

Having little to no knowledge of Chickens, I knew I had initially just one question for {N} in my limited French. "What about the Chickens"? Having not a clue on how to handle, keep, feed these newly acquired feathered friends. I was very keen for a little know how!! "How often do I feed them"? I asked in a subtle un-alcoholic manner, fearing they would think me a complete dip stick..Too late they thought it! "Four times a day" came the reply from {C}, smiling. My immediate response was "WHAT"!!! My second thought was - no more wine for her. "Once a day is enough" speaks up the ever smiling {N} and then invites me to go along with him to the coups. There he shows me the contents of a bin near full of Chicken feed. Phew!! that's a result at least I can feed them tomorrow. I had a million and one questions I needed to ask him at this point but he could not understand me and equally I could not understand him. I make a mental note that I need to speed up with my French lessons as I can see they have a lot to say...

At the end of my first day with my newly acquainted 5 Chickens, 1 Cockerel, 4 Hens, I now have a handle of one food source that they have on a regular basis. I also make another mental note to unpack the new Poultry book bought prior to leaving England and read up at speed.