The girls

I know nothing about hens - The nearest I have got to loving a chicken is painting a duck once in my art class. or as a publisher, commissioning one of our artists to paint a vibrant picture of a magnificent cockerel. I am joint owner of a field. For seven years, since I bought it with Keith, who renovated my old cottage, the field has been a glorious wasteland of thistles, nestles and prickly brambles. It has been a wilderness. Only big rabbits lived in the field, peppering the ground with their burrows, sometimes glimpsed bob tailed in the early morning sun playing in amongst the spikey weedy undergrowth.  My partner Anthony loves hens. He is a retired doctor and in a previous existence he had chickens, sheep, ducks and a dog called Max. His life changing moment came a few weeks ago.  'Let's buy a few hens'. He said. 'Let's get a polytunnel too and we can grow vegetables, and maybe buy a couple of pigs'. Of course, we'll have to eat the pigs we buy', he said. Jolted out of my comfortable publisher existence, where muddy fields, animals and manure fertilisers don't exist, I was suitably horrified and announced I couldn't possibly turn a pet pig into bacon. 'Babe is one of my favourite movies'. Things have moved on a bit since then, and as is usual in my life, coincidences and events have accommodated Ant's life changing moment, when doctoring moved on to smallholdering. The coincidence of Keith and I doing what we have wanted to do for a long time - clear the field of rubbish, and the coincidence of us not being able to get planning permission because of local council policies...and the coincidence of having Hen House Poultry just up the country lane...where chickens are plentiful and on sale, has led to today. As I look out of my cottage, whereas before green battled brown in a spiky weed bramble war, I can now see a sea of mud and like an oasis in the desert - a hen house, it's penthouse suite crowned with a roosting post for our now - six hens. This blog is an account of our journey into the good life...

Here's a reply that I have had from my lovely friend Polly...

Joy of joys!

Once you've had some cheeky beakies (my pet name for them) you'll want them wherever you live.

And when the first egg is produced, you'll be taking pics and showing everyone, even strangers!

Do put a nice bench in your field so you can sit on a warm summer evening with a glass of wine and a hen on your knee - they love being stroked on their crop (the pouch above the breast where food is stored). Hens have a wonderful calming effect, so sit on your bench and just watch them, whenever you're feeling low or stressed.

And you might send one of your little ladies up the road to spend some time with a naughty cockerel, then you can have some heavenly chicks, so soft and adorable.

Chicken pooh make the best fertiliser.