It's a family thing

You may want to know how we acquired our girls. It was like a military operation on the first day. With well researched precision, Anthony visited Henhouse Poultry and bought four clucky hybrid hens and the hen pad with its penthouse roosting suite. Then he chose the site in the vast mudpit of the field, and settled the girls in with much organisation of wood shavings and whatever it is that hens eat. It was the next day, that my sister and I decided we each wanted a hen too. Armed with no knowledge at all and a cat basket lined with a pink blanket, we drove to Henhouse Poultry. 'I'll know mine when I see it', said Jude. 'So will I', said I. It wasn't that easy, until I spied a flighty piece, phoenix-like and feather-fluffed, with a tuft of bad hair over a busy beak. 'It's her' I said, as Jude spied another tufted lady eyeing her up beadily. 'That's the one' she said, as Ben the Henhouse Poultry owner entered the compound and gave chase. 'They've got hair like our mum', said Jude. That's it then, we agreed. That is how we met our Heritage Skyline hens. They lay blue eggs. Wow! In true 'non farmer' style, we have named our girls. They are Biddy Armstrong (Jude's) and Lettuce Allsop (mine), names from childhood when we used to tease and taunt one other with these pet names when we wanted to be annoying. Biddy and Lettuce have integrated with their sisters with very little fuss and no pecking, so we are now eagerly awaiting the day of the first eggs. Will they be blue? I wonder. The picture is of me and Lettuce with bad hair. A picture of Jude and Biddy will be posted next time.