I have quite a number of events coming up, and I hope to see you at one or more of them.

This weekend, on Saturday, is a Chicken Keeping Workshop. There’s still plenty of space so do sign up. The photo below is from the Advanced Chicken Keeping Class held a week ago. Notice the cookies. I’ll be baking again on Friday!

On June 11, I’m really looking forward to being at one of my favorite places – The Tower Hill Botanic Garden in Boylston, MA. I’ll be doing a talk and book signing in the Limonaia, which is likely to be the most fragrant and beautiful space that I’ve ever done a program in. That event is free with the price of admission, so come early and tour the grounds. Even better, walk the gardens and then join me for dinner at the Twigs Cafe! I’ve reserved a table, so email me to let me know if you’d like to join us.

Speaking of gardens, I’ve added a new program this summer – A HenCam Garden Party. It will take place here at Little Pond Farm on July 12. If you’ve ever wished for a party where people talked about their chickens (instead of children, politics, etc.) then this is the event to come to! I’ll give a short presentation on how to incorporate a flock into a landscape, and the remainder of the afternoon will be spent relaxing by watching the Beast and hens, scratching the goats, wandering the gardens, and being able to chat about your own hens with others who get it. A full description and signup is on my Events Page.

Amber is waiting to welcome you to the party!

There’s more on my schedule – take a look at the Events Page for the full listing. I hope to see you soon!

A lot of poultry books and backyard chicken enthusiasts on the web make it sound as if all you need is a small box in which to house your hens. Their advice isn’t new. I have a pamphlet from the 1920s illustrating how to make a chicken coop from a piano crate (back then upright pianos were wildly popular and their shipping containers were as prevalent as pallets are now.) However, in the past, it was understood that these coops were designed for keeping chickens through one laying season, and then they were harvested for meat. If you want to keep your chickens healthy and content for any longer than that you’ll need to install a coop of a better design.

Most modern coops are too small, and have too few windows. Sunlight is essential for the well-being of your hens. But more on those criteria in another post! This one is about ventilation, which is essential to prevent respiratory disease and for keeping your flock healthy. After this past winter of the polar vortex, many people discovered just how inadequate their coops were. Flocks that never before got frost bite saw damaged combs. In every case that I heard of, the frozen combs could be linked back to inadequate ventilation.

Chicken manure is 75 to 80% moisture. Additionally, when chickens breathe, they expel moist air. Damp air holds germs and viruses and causes respiratory ailments. Additionally, when manure breaks down, ammonia fumes are released, which, when breathed by chickens (and humans) can cause respiratory distress. We’re well aware of this in the summer, when the coop smells bad and the air feels humid. But, in the winter, most chicken keepers don’t worry about damp air because the coop feels dry when the weather is frigid. Although the air doesn’t feel heavy, it has its own problems.  It sounds counter-intuitive but when air is cold, it can’t hold moisture, and so the damp stays where it is near the floor, and doesn’t move with the air out through the vents. Large-scale poultry operations understand the science of air flow.This is one reason that commercial barns are heated – to move the moist air out. For many reasons, I don’t like heat in the coop. Instead, I want a coop designed to be healthy for my hens regardless of the weather.

In the winter, not only is the air not efficiently carrying moisture out, but often people make the mistake of closing vents to keep the coop warmer. (Commercial operators heat the air, but they also keep the vents open!) Sometimes the coops are so badly designed that vents/windows must be closed during inclement weather. Additionally, I’ve seen coops so low to the ground that they get covered in snow, effectively insulating them, blocking air exits, and preventing any ventilation. Your coop must have ventilation that can stay open, even in the worst of storms and in below-freezing temperatures. Yet, at the same time, your coop shouldn’t be drafty. Getting this balance right is the trick.

There’s a reason that old barns have cupolas – they’re perfectly designed for year round ventilation. My Little Barn has one. That charming cap on the roof is actually a working vent that pulls air up and out. It keeps the coop cooler in the summer, and air circulating in the winter. Fresh air comes in through the pop-door and goes up and out through the cupola.

But, in the winter, knowing that the poop is holding onto its moisture, I also keep the barn skipped out (a nice horse management term for removing manure frequently.) Only during blowing snowstorms do I close the pop-door. Otherwise, it stays open, even during the coldest of days, to bring fresh air in. (I do lock it closed at night to keep predators out.)

Vents along eaves rarely move enough air. Some small coops have ridged roofs, which supposedly provide for plenty of ventilation. (This coop was found on PInterest; there was no link.)

However, I know someone who built a coop similar to this and this past winter her hens had frostbite. The problem here is that there isn’t enough headroom. The chickens roost right near the ceiling, right next to the venting. Cold air flows right over their combs. I wouldn’t be surprised if, at night, with the pop-door closed, that air flowed in instead of out.

On the other side of the weather spectrum, a chicken keeper has to worry about heat, which is far more dangerous to your birds’ health than cold. However, once again, good ventilation can go a long way to prevent problems. It was in the 90s the day that we installed the cupola in the Little Barn, and as soon as the hole was cut into the roof, the temperature inside of the coop dropped 20 degrees. If possible, have cross-ventilation. Windows are good. For those days when the it’s brutally hot and humid, I run a box fan to move the air. If in doubt, put a thermometer inside of the coop. Those small box coops, sited in the sun, can become ovens without you realizing it.

So, knowing all of this science of moisture transfer, and damp manure, what should a small coop look like? I have a FAQ with coop design criteria here. For ventilation, and for many other reasons (including behavior issues), the best coops have a minimum of 4 square feet per hen (not including nesting boxes if they’re built into the floor, nor outside pen space.) They should have windows that let in plenty of sunshine. Roosts need to be a good 18 inches or more up off of the floor – I prefer a ladder roost that is several feet high. Air space is as important as floor space!  If the roof has a vent like the one pictured above, it shouldn’t be right at the top of the roost, but well above the sleeping hens’ heads.

Too often, people like the idea of having the smallest coop possible. When planning shelter for your chickens, reverse that idea. In the case of hen housing, bigger is better, Still, I understand about space constraints and have an annotated Pinterest page with small coop ideas.

If you’ve had problems with ventilation, let me know. If you’ve solved those problems, I really want to hear about it!

The nesting boxes are clean and inviting. The hens are trained to roost and not sleep where they lay. And yet, even so, once  in awhile I see this.

An egg on the floor. Often, it’s under the roost. I know it wasn’t laid when the hens were sleeping. First of all, hens don’t lay eggs at night. Secondly, there’s no way an egg could survive intact from a drop from the top bar of the roost.

This is something that you want to keep to a minimum. This photo shows three days of manure accumulation. An egg sitting in those feces is more susceptible to picking up bacteria than one laid in a dry and clean nest. It’s also liable to be stepped on and broken, and then it will be eaten by the hens, and then they’ll learn to peck at and eat eggs. Egg laying on the floor of the coop (or sometimes, you’ll see an egg outside in the dirt) is something that you want to prevent. To do that, it helps to know why this is happening. Like so much with hen keeping, that comes down to experience, knowing your flock, and guesswork.

The first thing to ask yourself is: are the nesting boxes still inviting? As the seasons change and the light comes into the coop at a different angle, all of a sudden they might be too bright. Or, is there a predator keeping the hens out of the nesting boxes? I’ve heard of both snakes and opossums moving in. None of those possibilities are the case in my barn. Then, take awhile to observe your birds. Is someone sick? Has the flock dynamic changed so that a hen isn’t feeling welcome in the boxes? All of my hens are fine. Take a look at the egg. Is there something off about it? When a hen lays a thin-shelled or soft egg, it can be difficult for her to push it out. She’s uncomfortable, and I’ve seen hens walk around until finally able to lay. The eggs that I’ve recently found on the floor are solid, but I’ve noticed that these eggs tend to have a dull texture, as if they have no bloom (which is a protein coating that give the egg its shine and protects it from germs.). The bloom makes the egg very smooth and tough and eases laying. Without that, perhaps the hen had a difficult time laying and was straining too hard to stay put in the nesting box.

Although thin-shelled eggs are often due to diet or old age (or both) that’s not the case with my flock. In fact, the eleven hens in the Big Barn have been high producers of quality eggs. I’ve been collecting anywhere from seven to ten eggs daily from them. Because it takes more than twenty-four hours to lay an egg (upwards of twenty-six or more), over the course of the week, the hens lay later and later in the day, until they are laying an hour or so before dusk. Usually what happens is when the cycle gets too late in the evening, then the hen skips that day, and then lays first thing in the morning. Sometimes though, she gets on the roost and realizes that she can’t wait, jumps down, lays her egg, and hops back up and goes to sleep. Sometimes she makes it through the night and as soon as she wakes up, she lays her egg right when she hits the ground. This is my best guess for why I’ve found an egg now and then on the floor of the coop. But I could be wrong. I found the remnants of a broken soft-shelled egg in the nesting box this morning. I’ll be keeping an eye on things.

Gardeners complain about the weather. There’s just no pleasing us. On a sunny, blue-sky day we’ll say, We need rain. When it rains we’ll say, The ground is too wet to work. This past winter gave us plenty to kvetch about, and much was valid. My hydrangeas died back to the ground (thankfully, though, shoots are coming up so I haven’t lost the plants.) The harsh winter caused a late spring. Trees are only now leafing out, well after they usually do. This has caused dire warnings for people affected by seasonal allergies. Usually, tree pollen comes first, and then comes the pollen from blooms. This year, it will be a perfect storm of both occurring together. Stock up on tissues now.

But, to be Pollyannaish* about it, there’s always an upside. That late spring has been a boon to one group of plants. Every springtime, I peer into a corner of my woodland, fingers crossed, hoping that the pink lady’s-slippers will reappear. These plants are finicky. They are almost impossible to cultivate as they require specific conditions of acidity, light, moisture and a fungus (!) in the soil, that is impossible to replicate in a greenhouse. (Please don’t purchase them at a garden center, as they were likely to have been dug up from the wild.) Although individual plants can live for upwards of twenty years, sometimes they don’t show themselves at all. Sometimes, they seemingly pick up their roots and traipse to some other corner of the forest.

This year all of the conditions were perfect, and because the trees have leafed out late, there’s a bright dappling of sunshine in the lady’s-slippers corner that seems to make them thrive. Instead of a half-dozen flowers, this year we counted over 25.

It’s such a good year for pink lady’s-slippers that this one decided to move away from the crowd.

They’re pretty from a distance, and so interesting up close.

The flowers lure in bees for pollination, but there’s nothing there for them to eat. As they exit, they pick up pollen, which they bring to yet another lady’s-slipper, as the scent and form is impossible for a bee to resist.

The lady’s-slippers in my front woodland will be gone by the end of the week. I’ll have to wait until next year to see them again.That is, if I’m lucky and the weather is just right.

Today, I have nothing to complain about. It rained overnight. My garden soil is just right. The sun is out. There’s a breeze to keep the mosquitos at bay. Yesterday, I stopped in at a local organic vegetable farm to purchase tomato plants. They’re going into my raised beds this morning. I have one of each of these varieties: Big Beef, Celebrity, Rutgers, Black Velvet, Plum Regal, Pineapple and Red Grape. Every one of these is new to me this year. Do you have experience with these tomatoes? Have a favorite that I missed? Every year I vow not to plant too many tomatoes, but I’ve room for one more. Which should it be? Let me know in the comments.

*For those of you unfamiliar with the term Pollyanna, she was a hero of children’s stories written in the late 1800s. Her optimistic worldview was, even back then, easy to parody. Being a Pollyanna means that you always (as the song from Spamalot goes) look on the bright side of life.