The older girls tend to hang around in a trio (or perhaps triad would be a better description). They are, at best, dismissive of the two newbies, (at worst, in Gloria case, she actively goes out of her way to pull a “mean girl” routine on them).

So what do little Sweetpea and Queenie do? Well they stick together (they are after all birds of a feather). They actively search each other out, regularly playing on the perches and the henwalk, hunting for worms together and climbing trees (yes really).

Every evening we find them cuddled up together in the same nesting box, they simply love each others company.

Surround yourself with your tribe, the people you genuinely have fun with, who lift you, who build you up rather than those who bring you down. It’s so important to surround yourself with people who make you feel good about yourself.

Part of the new run that we built for the girls is the “hen-walk” a walkway between two mirrors for the girls to strut their stuff (and I can give the littlest ones some treats separately to the older girls).

An unexpected consequence is Sweetpea’s reaction to the mirrors. She is generally a very good natured little bird and rubs along nicely with the rest of the flock. However, she absolutely hates her reflection and attacks the mirror regularly, puffing up her feathers and pecking viciously at her own image.

Now I’m sure this is just a standard chicken reaction to an unfamiliar face, but it did get me thinking. How often do we treat ourselves as our worst enemy rather than our best friend? Our internal dialogue, the stories we tell ourselves are often much crueller and more hurtful than anything we would dream of saying to someone else.

So maybe today, take a look at your reflection and be kind, treat yourself as you would your best friend, you deserve it!

A worrying time recently at Cluckingham Palace, little Gloria appeared a bit under the weather again, which I initially put down to another stuck egg, so the usual spa morning ensued.

Once she’d had her bath and blow dry she was back in with the others and seemed okay. However, when I went to collect the eggs she’d laid a lash egg (not an egg at all, but a passing of infected matter down the oviduct), a clear sign that all is not well. Luckily I’d had the foresight to register with a specialist avian vet in Sheffield, so Gloria went on a little adventure down the M1 to visit the new vet.

It wasn’t a great trip for either of us, a motorway journey with a chicken in the car (albeit in a cat carrier) isn’t the easiest and at the other end Gloria was prodded and poked, much to her annoyance (She got a couple of good pecks in as retaliation). Lots of medicine and a few pounds lighter we returned home. Hopefully this will cure my little hen. The vet thinks she’s been ill and masking it for quite a long time, which had allowed the infection to really take hold.

If you’re struggling, don’t hide it, reach out to people who love you and will support you through hard times, I promise it will help, you don’t have to go it alone.

So the girls are getting used to their new deluxe accommodation, I have tried to add interest for them in the new run with tree stumps, branches, ladders, even mirrors and a “henwalk”, (as you might imagine this is a catwalk, but for hens).

It’s fascinating watching their reaction to new things, the older girls stick together and like the security of familiarity, they hang out by the old feeders and the dust bath, needing significant encouragement to investigate further.

Our youngest girl, Sweetpea is much more adventurous and with her trusty sidekick Queenie has been exploring the new perches, ladders, hen walk and mirrors with enthusiasm. She squeals with excitement when she finds strategically placed treats, but appears to be genuinely interested in her new environment for it’s variability and stimulation.

A sense of adventure and curiosity, whatever your age, should be nurtured and developed, it can lead to a wonderful journey. So take that new road, seek out a different path, see where it leads.

Our neighbours also have hens, 7 really beautiful girls, all raised together from eggs and bought at point of lay.

They live in a huge stable and free range from dawn until dusk on 5 acres of the most verdant grass I have ever seen.

They’re also a very neighbourly flock who tend to visit on a daily basis, hopping through the dividing fence. (Unfortunately they get short shrift from Princess Layer, who quickly chases them back across the boundary).

Our girls on the other hand, seem happy and content in their much smaller space, which is mainly dirt, shrubs and trees with very little grass. They never attempt return visits.

Often, even when the grass looks greener, it isn’t. You will never be content if you compare yourself with people around you, as the quote goes “comparison is the thief of joy”.

(Picture 1 is the flock next door, pictures 2 & 3 is of their daily visits).

So, the day finally dawned, and the girls moved into their new coop and run. It’s 4 times the size of the old one, has no red mites and is full of interesting things to explore.

They were in the new coop overnight, so I raced out at dawn this morning to see how they had got one.

Everything seemed okay, the girls happily had some breakfast, then I let them out for some time in the woods.

Princess ran straight for the old coop, (a good 100m dash) squawking and flapping as fast as she could.

She then loudly exclaimed that she wanted back in her old home, that’s where she belonged.

I patiently went and collected her, brought her back to the new run (I even brought up the deluxe boutique individual nesting box up for her – it’s a cat carrier with bedding in it, but they love it).

Each time she raced back down, clearly irritated that I wasn’t understanding what she was telling me. In time she will get used to her larger, more luxurious surrounding, but at the moment all my little chicken wants is what she is used to.

Change can be difficult, even when we know it’s positive and there are better things to come, moving on from what we know, what we are accustomed to, is always challenging. If you just go with it, adjust to the differences and embrace the change great things can happen.

Picture one is princess at the old coop, two is the new coop, three is the third march back down the hill. She’s definitely persistent!

Oh, it’s cold this morning, I wish I had an inbuilt feather duvet / coat on days like this!

So all the girls have a similar diet, mainly chicken feed, plus daily treats with additional calcium to aid shell production.

All the girls spend a similar length of time out of the run, free ranging in the woods, and it apparently takes a similar effort (at least in terms of time in the nesting boxes) to produce their daily eggs.

The outcomes however, can be quite different. Gloria tends to lay “odd” wrinkly eggs. (See photo below). They still taste delicious.

Sometimes, regardless of your efforts, the results might not be exactly what you’d like. It’s okay not to be perfect all the time, everyone is going through different things.

Trying your best is always good enough.

(Just to note that wrinkled eggs are not unusual and might just indicate that Gloria will stop laying soon, and that’s great – chickens are much less susceptible to illness when they no longer lay).

At the moment the girls are all laying an egg a day, they each take turns to have some time in the nest boxes, mostly individually but sometimes in pairs.

The most distinctive “tell” that an egg is being laid is the egg song. Each girl chirrups away as an egg is being laid.

Sweetpea is the most vocal, Gloria the least, but if you listen the egg song is always sung.

However, overlaid on that is the fact that Sweetpea gets so excited about every egg she proudly announces if someone else is about to lay. She struts round, head held high, singing her little heart out about her friends efforts.

We should all be proud of our friends achievements, be their cheerleaders and make sure their efforts are noticed and appreciated.

Commercial hens don’t have the best start in life. Hatched in industrial sized incubators they are quickly carried by conveyor belt to a sexing room. The female chicks have a beak trim then off to a rearing facility for 16 weeks until they mature sufficiently to lay.

Commercial hens can be kept in a variety of welfare conditions which you can read up on. They are expected to lay 300 eggs or more over a year or so, until they are no longer economically viable at which point the lucky ones are rehomed.

All my girls have been in various states of “undress” when they arrived, with a scarcity of feathers and a nervous air to them. They’ve never been handled by humans with love or affection.

Within hours they start to explore their new environment. Within days they recognise that Vic = food appearing, and their individual characteristics are quickly established.

They greet each day with a level of enthusiasm and joy of which I am truly envious.

Please don’t let a bad start in life weigh down your future, it is very easy (and understandable) to take on a “poor me” attitude when life has been tough, but that won’t serve you going forward.

Start where you are, and move forward with hope.

Today we are clearing space in the woods for a much bigger chicken run. Removing shrubs and felling some of the smaller trees.

The girls love it when we’re working out here, lots of extra space to dig around and piles of branches to explore. But it does have some challenges.

It’s tricky for the humans making sure that all the chickens are clear of any falling debris, (and they can move at quite a pace if they think there are worms to be had), but the girls have a system.

If any one of the flock, regardless of position in the hierarchy, sounds an alarm and runs, (which they will if they hear a tree falling), all the girls charge for the safety of the coop. It’s a very effective protection (from both branches and predators).

We don’t always have to learn from our own experiences, if someone you trust and respect gives a warning it’s probably worthwhile taking notice.