How to stuff a chicken

It's been an interesting day or two, one way and another.

It was such a lovely day on Saturday that we went into the garden, let the chickens out of their run and sat on the bench to drink our tea.   Mad Irene had barely started mowing the lawn when she spotted that we had something she didn't.  And, of course, she wanted it - whatever it was.  So she legged it across and leapt onto my son's lap with the intention of dipping her beak into his cuppa.  Fortunately in this instance the hand was quicker than the eye, covering his drink before Irene could get at it.

A bit later on I went to throw some corn into their run and discovered that Fizz had learned to roof-bounce. It could well be that this was when Fizz also discovered he could roof-bounce.  Knowing I was about to dispense goodies, he decided to take a short cut from the far side of the run.  He ran, jumped a bit too enthusiastically onto the smoking shelter roof and found himself going "boing" into the air and onto the upper level.  He looked a bit confused for a moment, as well he might, before running over to join the others.

Then on Sunday, the sky fell on Pom-Pom.  She was absolutely appalled to find that the hated egg-laying business had started all over again.  She was furious!   She thought she'd laid more than her fair share of eggs last year, and now the damned things were appearing again.

Come bed time and there was Irene with one Araucana tucked nicely into her chest feathers, and the other nestled in somewhere near her nether regions.  Maggie was between her and the wall.  The minute we opened the side door of the coop, she tucked her head under Irene's wing.   We popped Pom-Pom onto the perch on the other side of Irene.   Pom-Pom promptly tucked her head, bouffant hairstyle and all, under Irene's other wing!

So basically, Irene was well and truly stuffed - not with sage and onion, but with half the flock.