An interesting development occurred whereby I discovered that the new inhabitant of our old house has no need for a legacy poultry zone.


Posts, wire, house, nets… it’s all still there, for us to pick up whenever we like.

Having had to abandon this labour of hen love, the discovery was an unexpected but pleasing turn of events. And because I carefully built it to be easily dismantled, it shouldn’t take an age to reclaim.

Today has therefore been mainly concerned with logistical plotting…

This weekend, we have taken significant steps towards the reintegration of FOWL into our lives.

Saturday night therefore has been dedicated to hen research, principally the baffling permutations of space per bird requirements. ‘Baffling’ because these sums require a tussle not only with mathematics but also ethics: square metres times head of poultry divided by requirement to do the right thing by our little feathered pals.

Currently I’m swithering extensively between three and four chickens, and no amount of measuring, graph paper schematics and Lego models seems sufficient to resolve the issue.

And so Saturday night passed…

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