On a hot summer’s day I was surprised to see two hens laying out in the dirt in the direct sunlight. One’s leg was thrust out, and their limbs looked in disarray. Oh no. Has the heat killed my chickens? I snapped a photo before I opened the door. As soon as the latch clicked, they were both up and demanding grubs. So not dead. Just enjoying a little baking in the sun when it is sweltering. Ok. Usually they are all huddled in the heavy shade and at least one is standing in the foot bath, if not two. This unusual position and timing gave me a scare for certain.

The rain. The rain that just keeps coming. I know it is springtime in Texas, which means rainstorms, but this year feels different. It isn’t Harvey bad, we actually have seen the sun and blue sky, but the ground is so wet and has been soaking wet with little chance to dry out. The chicken’s run has been wet for so long it is growing algae. Twilight couldn’t care less, and wanders out into the downpour, coming back looking bedraggled. In the picture above she is not mad about being soaked, she is mad that I am chasing her around with a camera (and also, since I’m there, is there another round of grubs?) On the plus side, the drainage I dug continues to keep the area around the coop door dry, so their food is dry and they have some dry dirt for dust baths. Everything else in the runs, though, is damp and soggy.

We had a run of rain and once again my hens don’t seem to care if they get wet, especially Twilight. Although wet hens do look rather deranged. So “mad as a wet hen” maybe isn’t anger but crazy?