Hardy Humboldt Hens

From a couple of days ago, snapped not far from the coop. Camilla to the left, Owl in center front, nearly all the rest in the background; oh my sweet chickens!

Not a 4-H club, but certainly a 3-H association. Gigi has abandoned her broody ways, THANK YOU JESUS! Ruthie, also starting to be known as Buttercup, remains a mostly cheery sort. The rest are enjoying a slightly wet day, and I am grateful they are as low-key as chickens could be.

Broody duo notwithstanding, ahem.

I guess this is a chicken post. Ah chickens.... They had a marvelous weekend putzing around mainly in the sun, though yesterday mid-afternoon the clouds thickened up, signaling the storm now drizzling water on our North Coast corner of the world. Two nights ago my husband found Gigi in a nesting box, but to our amazement she plopped out of it of her own accord, then slowly wandered toward the steps of the roost, hopping up to the wall, finding a space for sleep. Last night she didn't even enter a nesting box, content to roam with her sisters, WHEW! She's been a broody pooh-bah for coming on two weeks, but maybe now that spell has been put to rest.

We shall see....

As for Ruthie/Buttercup, so our eldest daughter had a hilariously doofus beagle/basset hound mix for many years. Buttercup was smart enough to get her way most of the time, but utterly without sense the rest of the day, LOL. Last night on a family text thread I joked we should have named a hen for Buttercup, to which my daughter noted it would have to be the dorkiest one. The doofusiest one, she actually wrote. Doofusiest is a hard word to say, much less spell correctly, but it aptly describes Ruthie Chicken, not due to her at times broodiness, but from how SQUAWKY she gets, for what we perceive as NO GOOD REASON. She'll strut around, nearly squawking her dang head off, what a doofus. She is definitely our doofusiest chicken.

Yet all eight are quite hardy; they have become accustomed to foraging in the rain, handling the wind with aplomb. Owl and Nadia are the two most weatherproof, not quite like ducks, but certainly not caring one whit about precipitation or stiff breezes. And where one chickens leads, often the rest follow, and well, that's a hardy Humboldt hen for you.

Hens on the wall; my beloved Owl amid her sisters. How I adore that chirpy, happy chicken!

Today's photos aren't overly indicative of that mood because I'm not going out in the rain to snap pictures, LOL. These are shots my husband has taken recently, usually as he tells them Goodnight. They're pretty little penny's; henny-penny's I call them, my sweet chickies, penny-girls, etc, etc. I'm grateful they are so low-key, accepting the elements for what they are, wholly beyond their control yet not barriers to finding a good haul of worms, haha. I watched Camilla yesterday eat very small rocks from the pavement, finally having proof that yes, they get their grit naturally. They don't touch purchased grit or oyster shells in the coop, and our youngest daughter researched our soil, learning there's a high calcium content in it. Smart are these hens, as well as possessing marvelous constitutions!

Nighttime shot; trying to get settled for bed.

They don't even mind mild mud-dustbathing; we added dirt and sand to their box in the coop, but a day after our last storm they were outside flinging clumps of mud at their bodies, as well as onto each other. Are they so self-reliant simply by instinct, or has our mostly hands-off method of raising them strengthened that vital wild-but-kind-of-domesticated notion further? I don't know, but I'm thankful for all which has woven together for our hens to be happy and thriving.

Can't ask for much more than that. And a generous serving of chicken scratch a couple of times a week comes in handy too, hehehe.