And then there were four...

So we've been chatting to a few local chicken experts.
(And there do seem to be a lot of them in this village. Coincidentally, they all bake their own sourdough bread, drive a Volvo and get their groceries delivered by Ocado). They concur that two is definitely not a good number. Apparently the cockerel dominates the female and this leads to a less generous egg yield.

So rather than fowl-up the delicate balance in this green and pleasant little corner of Englandshire, we raced off to Cotswold Chickens on the South Newington Road on Friday and bought two new "redhead" hens: Florrie (after the flame-haired eponymous drama queen from "Florence and the Machine") and Tintin (after the auburn/ginger/strawberry blond (?) adventurer).

Initially the new-comers didn't receive the warmest welcome from territorial Mayonnaise and Pie, and some serious scuffles ensued. But they seem to have settled down now (there's nothing like a sunny weekend and a few glasses of wine round the ol' chicken water dispenser to ease tensions).

Dare I concede that I was wrong and that maybe the chicken-thing was a good idea afterall? Benanna love running outside to let out the chickens each morning. They check for eggs and sprinkle some feed and love around. And hey, if the kids are happy, then who am I to get into a flap?

Ok, that's the last of the pathetic chicken puns. I promise.

Florrie strutting her stuff...