Time to let loose a fresh hen party

Jan 29 2008 by Liz Shankland, Western Mail

ONCE you’ve kept chickens, you’ll never want to be without them. Like most smallholders, hens were the first animals we bought as we were finding our feet – something simple to practise on while we decided what we really wanted to do with our land.

It’s surprising how easy it is to build up a bond with them, and you’re always guaranteed an enthusiastic welcoming committee every morning. Having said that, there comes a time when hens get a bit too old to be reliable layers.

You have to weigh up what you’re putting into them – increasingly expensive feed – against what you’re getting out of them. If the sums don’t add up, there has to be a parting of the ways.

Gerry and I finally got round to getting a new flock of hens at the weekend. There’s something about a fine, dry weekend that gives you that impetus to get outdoors and do all those jobs you’ve been meaning to do, but have put off because of nasty weather.

Last weekend we had no excuse: the fencing for the new poultry paddock was up, the lovely new houses had arrived, and the man at the place where we buy our birds said he had some point-of- lay hens available. The downside was that he only had warrens – the ever-reliable egg machines of the chicken world – this time round.

We’ve usually kept a mixed flock, just for a bit of variety, but we decided that if we were going to restock, this was probably going to be our only opportunity to do so for a while.

The birds, in fairness, look lovely and healthy, and they’ve been vaccinated, too, so we’re very happy with them. It’s always nice introducing new birds from commercial breeders to their new free-range lifestyle; birds which have spent the first 18-20 weeks of their lives in dark, cramped hutches are always wary of the outdoors but, once they’ve plucked up the courage and had their first taste of grass, they start running round like mad things, flapping their wings and making the most of the space and fresh air.

Birds deserve to be outdoors, and Gerry and I wouldn’t raise them any other way.

The one drawback to getting a new flock of hens is that we still have the old ones – a mixture of warrens and black rocks, plus a little white bantam which only lays occasionally, but is a tremendous broody hen, with a track record for raising chicks from all kinds of hens’ eggs, plus a clutch of ducklings, too.

We can’t mix the two flocks because they’d fight, so they’re separated for now by a temporary fence. I’ve advertised them in the paper this week, free to a good home, as long as someone collects, but if anyone out there wants them, drop me an email.

Spurred on by the satisfaction of getting the new layers settled, we decided to re-site one of the pig arks. The past couple of months of really wet weather have turned the pig fields into a quagmire, and it had got to the stage where cleaning out the Tamworth gilts’ ark meant sinking knee-deep into mud.

The only thing to do was to move it – using our multi-purpose mini-digger to hoist it onto (marginally) drier ground. I’ll be so glad when the land gets the chance to drain properly – and so, I expect, will all our animals.

Talking of pigs, my friend Barbara Warren, who bred the gilts, has been trying to talk me into showing them at the Royal Welsh Smallholder Show in May. I’ve been in two minds about it, because I’ve no doubt I’d make a complete fool of myself in the ring.

A pig in my charge is bound to misbehave and, as a complete beginner, I can see myself chasing around aimlessly after her in my smart white exhibitor’s overall, waving my pig board and stick like a mad woman.

Barbara assures me that losing control is all part of the fun, and I’ve decided I will have a go. The only thing is, I can’t take just one pig to the show, because my two girls have been brought up together and wouldn’t be happy being separated. I need someone to show one of them for me.

Gerry doesn’t know it yet, but I’m going to be taking him shopping soon – for a matching set of his and hers white coats. At least I won’t be the only one looking helpless in the ring.

Write to Liz Shankland c/o Western Mail, Blue Street, Carmarthen SA31 3LQ. Add an SAE for a reply. Or email downtoearthliz@hotmail.co.uk