I picked up Gaia the ever-broody, yesterday morning, to remove her from the eggs. I turned her over slightly to look underneath her (why not?) and gasped in shock to find a big bare patch in her underside. It looked like all her feathers had been plucked.

I immediately thought that she had been attacked by jealous females, or that my ignorance and lack of care had caused this. [I already have Babu’s death on my novice conscience]. Luckily, I only divulged this “wound” to my husband who also took a doctor like approach to this exposed skin calling for immediate isolation and care.

I turned to the Internet as always, to seek a chicken psychology for my obviously overly bitchy hens. Imagine my embarrassment to read that this is a normal part of a chicken. The exposed skin is the bit that keeps the eggs warm!. I’ve failed basic chicken anatomy 101 already. It would be a bit of an obvious design fault for a chicken to have insulating feathers right in the place they are trying to transfer heat from their bodies to an egg shell. People say that chickens are dumb. Look not at the chicken to which the finger points, but at the doofus who’s arm is at the origin of said pointing finger.

As I befriend each of my new feathered friends, I’m leaning their personalities and discovering their names which usually relate to their distinguishable features.

Chickens
1. Kali – the *big* hen [Kali is Shiva’s consort, meaning ‘The Black Female’]
2. Gaia – very very broody earth mama white hen with black markings
3. Storm – The fluffy grey
4. ? – white hen
5. ? – white hen
6. ? – fluffy black
7. ? – black hen
8. ? – black hen
9.Rasputin – the mad, bad rooster who’s ladies follow him around as if hypnotised with his beauty

Ducks
1. Cirrus – the duck with a cirrus-cloud like brown marking on her chest
2. Withywindle – the old white duck who just wanders around alone
3. Vicar – the duck with a white collar
4 ? – beautiful young looking white duck

We have moved in! Apart from the overwhelming chaos of living in boxes it’s cool. As we shipped our stuff from the UK we steam cleaned and wrapped *all* our stuff to be sure to get it through AUS quarantine but this now translates as a torture. Unwrapping things should be joyous, and yet your fingers can only take so much ripping of plastic and hacking at packaging tape. *sigh*…

On a more animal note, I’m bonding big time with the chickens, ducks and turkeys. Even though I had set myself a rigid unpacking timetable, I gave 3 hours of my time to the chicken coop on Saturday morning. I’m still learning the personalities of the chickens but have named the rooster, Rasputin. He’s a love machine, he’s mad, bad but enchanting. What other name?

I really know nothing about chickens – I don’t even know if they bite when you try to remove a broody hen from her eggs so I got some gloves. I felt a bit foolish when she just hopped off as soon as the big gloved hand came near — and I also felt very mean. I’m not used to “taking” from animals, and I must admit to feeling very guilty when she remarks about my intrusion on what would be her future little chicks. I’m too sentimental, I realise this! What will happen when we have cows and bits of them end up in our freezer????? You’ll soon find out if I can truly muti-task (type in a blog whilst weeping)