Like Old Mother Hubbard, I had nothing in my cupboard. It was bare – and our barnyard was empty too.
I had a hankering for some fresh eggs and at the price of eggs today, well; it felt more frugal to get some chickens than drive to the store and buy a carton of eggs.
I missed having chickens. There are so many things a person can do with eggs. They were a staple in any kitchen. It was a pity I was out.
If only I could get my hands on three or four layer chickens and perhaps a rooster…
Hens lay eggs daily and if the rooster did his job perhaps one of the hens would go broody and hatch a few chicks. I smiled. It was a project worthy of dreaming about. Then again, why dream when one can make it a reality, it never costs anything to ask a question.
Maybe if I made some inquiries a farmer or his wife would be willing to part with a few old hens not producing daily. I don’t need many eggs. There were only two people to feed at our house. Hens laying an egg every other day would be extraordinary and more than what is needed at our small prairie farm.
I only made a couple of inquiries about wanting chickens but, the county grapevine in my part of the country moves information along faster than the internet. I could have had chickens the very next day but I wasn’t prepared for them quite that soon.
“Chickens don’t need much,” I mused, “just a little love, feed, water and shelter then they give back readily with an egg. Luckily, a pen in the barn is already outfitted with chicken wire and I only needed to clean out a waterer and add a feeder then the coop would be ready. However, laying hens like a place to nest that’s quiet where they feel safe. The empty cupboard taking up space in the shop would suffice for that purpose.”
With a little help, I mounted the empty cupboard on the wall of the barn, took off one of the doors, stuffed the cupboard with straw for nesting purposes and added an old saw horse for chickens to perch on. I was ready. Delivery day couldn’t come soon enough! I was very excited!
The little red hens – four of them – were three year old Rhode Island Reds. They took to the nest immediately and laid three eggs! Eggstrodinary chickens!
I was prouder than an old mother hen, “These amazing chickens deserved names!”
The smallest would be, ‘Henny,’ not very original, she know but my favorite hen from years ago was a Brown called Henny – she too was small in stature but a great producer of eggs. This little red hen could be her name sake.
Leaning over the pen door I spoke to the hens pointing at them individually and repeating names, “Henny, Maude, Becky and Elvira.”
Maude and Becky are the two largest birds. Maude limps. Becky’s coo sounds like she is purring like a cat; she is a very quiet, patient bird.
Elvira is medium build and very pretty. She knows it too – she struts her stuff and primps her feathers showing in every way that she is not just any old Princess but the Royal Red Queen herself!
The little red hens all seem pleased with their names.
I tended to my small chicken flock daily and for the first few days happily collected 3 eggs. On the fourth day I was curious as to whether the same three chickens were the ones laying or if a couple of them only laid every other day so I decided to take time and observe the egg laying production line.
Maude was first in the nesting box and she quietly laid her egg. Afterward, Elvira announced the event to the world and peeked in to take a look at the precious shell of a thing.
Becky nearly trampled Maude and the snoopy Elvira to sit on the nest. It was her turn and there would be no holding her at the back of the line. She was in a hurry to get her egg laying job completed.
Maude having been the first to lay the daily egg emerged from the nesting box head held high stroking her breast with feather like fingers, cooing, “That’s how it’s done ladies.”
Elvira was a little peckish when she re-emerged. She went straight to the feeder giving back squawk the entire time Becky sat on the nest. The longer Becky sat, the louder Elvira squawked – you’d have thought the sky was falling except that Elvira was inciting all of the panic not Henny! Finally, Becky’s egg dance was over. She gave one little cluck and started purring. Elvira literally flew into the nesting box to survey the new egg and apparently, to proudly lay her own golden egg.
Elvira is the loudest and chattiest hen of the flock. Being the Queen Boss, she really hen pecks the others – especially Henny, whose egg was starting to protrude by the time Elvira gave in to all of the peer pressure and came prancing merrily out of the nesting box so that Henny could go in.
By the way, Elvira had either decided not to lay an egg or had laid a magically invisible one. There was a lot of cracking up going on afterwards. No eggaggeration! Just ask Elvira’s fine feathered friends, it was quite the hen party!
Elvira did lay an egg the next day. It was quite large so it isn’t a wonder at all why she is so loud and cranky, pecking at everyone – overdue eggs can do that to a chicken even if they are the Queen Boss of the flock.
Mostly though, the flock is happy and I am overjoyed to have life back in the barn.
“But, the little red hens do not seem to be very broody,” I thought observing my flock of four Rhode Island Red hens while I fed them one morning. It would be nice to see some chicks with them.
“I’m looking for a Rooster for you, ladies,” I said aloud.
Elvira put up quite a squawk about a He-man roosting in the hen house but the others cooed, preened and shook their tail feathers in anticipation of a handsome cockerel coming to caw. However, Elvira already had the pecking order established – no need for a rooster posturing and crowing to the world about his inherent virility every morning at the crack of dawn, she was putting her foot down! Dust and straw flew as she scratched and clawed at the barn floor squawking out her consternation.
I told Her Royal Red Highness to settle down. I understood her message. I wasn’t trying to ruffle feathers but that I’d take no back cluck from her – Maude, Becky and Henny bawked but they were in agreement. It was best for Elvira not to stew over it or peck the hand that feeds her, golden egg layer or not. Elvira has been a little less plucky since that scolding but we had a good woman to hen talk and came to an understanding.
Then the hens put their beaks together and come up with a compromise.
“Chicks were welcome but no rooster. Elvira didn’t want any old Cock of the walk strutting around in her well organized house messing up production. A chick on the other feather could be trained.”
I smiled when the chicks arrived because they are – unsexed!
More than likely a rooster will be among the young hatchlings. Hopefully, Elvira will take to a younger man, one she can train about coop rules. Plus, I’d much rather be able to put a feather in my cap after having used such positive trickery with the royal red hen’s love life. Besides, who wouldn’t love a fuzzy little chick; rooster or pullet? Hopefully when Elvira sees the chicks her shell will soften and she’ll fall head over feet for them. I don’t want this situation to be the straw to crack the golden egg into tiny pieces like that of Humpty Dumpty’s. I am such a mother hen at heart and, I really do love these little red hens. My fingers are crossed that Elvira will get all broody and fall in love. It will bring peace and harmony to the barnyard.
“Which came first,” I mused today as I opened the door to the once vacant cupboard, “the chicken or the egg?”
Grinning, I moved Elvira aside and exposed her treasure.
“On this farm, the chickens came first and then the eggs. And, with Old Mother Hubbard’s cupboard no longer bare, we can all live happily ever after.”
Some of you may be thinking that this is just another fowl story with a fairy tale ending. Well, my fine friends you could be eggs-actly right. But I think; that I have pulled off an eggstrodinary coup.
Now that it’s over, however, I must set down my feather tipped pen and get cracking – there are chicks to brood over and golden eggs to gather from the cupboard, all thanks to the little Rhode Island Red hens living in our prairie, barnyard coop.
Thank-you for following, reading, sharing and commenting – The Trefoil Muse
Looks like you’re having some fun with those chickens. But the thought of fresh laid eggs are making me hungry for a frittata, so I hope you don’t mind if I raid your henhouse.
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Lol! Come on over Tippy! You can teach me how to rustle some of those up! 😃 😊
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You have to be very sneaky when raiding a henhouse. You don’t want to wake up the watchdog, or you could become his dinner.
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Lol…
My watch dogs will likely luck you to death prior to eating you..
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Wow hen’s family all have beautiful name loved to read it. Cute hen’s and eggs.Well shared thanks.
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Thank-you Priti! I’m so glad you enjoyed it! 😊
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It’s pleasure of mine stay blessed 🤗🥰
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This was an entertaining read, Nadine! I’m truly tempted to read it again and count the plays on words that you so skillfully incorporated. Our daughter started raising laying hens a couple of years ago. She also named all of “the ladies”. I remember that, in her first batch, she named the biggest one, “Supper” lol. Just the other day she posted a photo of this year’s chicks (250 of them!) There will be a few laying hens, but the majority will be for meat. Good luck with your girls! I’m thinking you’ll be a good mother hen 😉
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Thank you Terry!
I laughed at the name your daughter gave her biggest hen, “Supper”
The most I have ever raised at once was 50…
There is nothing like the taste of food you raise yourself!
I thoroughly enjoy my critters whether they have fur or feathers 🪶
Have a great day! ❤️
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This reads with almost the same cadences as a fairy tale. Beautifully done.
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Thank you very much Gary!
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