Although Christmas was wiped out thanks to a dose of Covid, I am slowly returning to real life and looking forward to a new season in the garden.
The potager shed
The potager shed
All in Hens
Although Christmas was wiped out thanks to a dose of Covid, I am slowly returning to real life and looking forward to a new season in the garden.
Night time temps are negative at the moment. We have a bitter wind blowing but the large citruses have been wrapped up for winter and all the others are in the greenhouse. The hens have makeshift cladding around the hen house in an attempt to keep the interior above 3℃ overnight.
Each week during the summer our hens lay more eggs than we can eat, so it makes sense to try to keep some for winter when they are no longer laying.
For the past year or so I’ve had a hen tunnel running through the path of the vegetable garden. Whilst it’s lovely communing with my girls whenever I’m working, it’s a pain in the butt to get past and using a wheelbarrow has been out of the question.
Just over a week ago our lovely hen-that-laid-blue-eggs, Blucia died. There was a huge tempest that was blowing directly into their open hen house and I think she must have had a heart attack when an exceptional gust blew in.
We’re currently feeling the might of Tempest Hervé which is primarily over Corsica and our garden. Or so it feels. Or maybe it’s the Tramontane. We have had gusts of around 104k/h almost all day.
It was -2.5C in the vegetable garden last night, but no evidence of a frost. Most strange. The only reason I noticed was that there was no water coming from the hose to fill the hens’ bowl.
Last night the hens didn’t want to go in their henhouse, but I wrangled them in against their will.
All summer I’ve been thinking how lovely it would be to have breakfast or brunch with friends in the vegetable garden.
Most of my life I’ve had hens, but since moving to this house we hadn’t really thought about keeping them again.
