It is cold

When I requested to move anywhere south of Montreal a year ago, I was picturing something like Suriname, or Mali, or maybe even Tuvalu.   But, as so often happens with wishes, the literal desire was granted and intent ignored.

The only real personal knowledge of Delaware I had prior to moving was:

1. There is a Chik-fil-A somewhere off of I-95 near Wilmington.
2. As a child, we once visited family friends who lived in Delaware.  I slipped on a patch of ice in their driveway and hit my head.  This is actually my dominant childhood memory having to do with being cold.

So somewhere deep down I knew there would be ice.  And maybe snow.  And a lot of highways.  And fast food.  Yet I held out a desperate hope that the Delaware of my childhood had  been magically transformed into a pristine tropical paradise.  The sun would sit high in the sky year round and the ocean would be just around the corner.

 

It became clear pretty early on that some of my expectations would not be met.  However, I still held out a small hope that we'd finally escaped winter.

Ice on the car.  Just like Canada.

But two days ago it snowed and our morning and evening ritual now includes pouring hot water over the chickens' water to melt the ice.  The chickens, however, seem to be doing fine- not huddling or even very puffed up.  They have a heat lamp, but are only interested in it when they're figuring out where to perch for the night. 

The flock is finally getting used to us and displaying their personalities.  Surprisingly, the three Silkies (the smallest of the group) are emerging near the top of the pecking order, followed by the four Golden Comets.  These are the only breeds that we have more than one of and its hard to tell them apart.  There seems to be one Silky that is smaller than the rest and lower on the pecking order.  However, she is the only one small enough to fly up to and perch on a board nailed half way up the wall of the shed.  We had hoped that the chickens wouldn't be able to get up there because its where all the electric outlets are, but it seems just the one Silky can barely manage it.  She takes a flying leap, hooks her beak onto the wood, and flaps wildly until she can get her foot up.  The other chickens appear very jealous.  We're still not sure how she manages to hang on to her narrow perch, so we've taken to calling her Fluffernutter.

In the middle of the pecking order is the Brahma and Barred Rock.  If a chicken can be obese, we think Brahma qualifies.  When she hops down from her perch, its with a loud thud.  She's very pushy and always the first in line for treats but will take a back seat to at least some of the Silkies and Comets.

At the bottom of the group we have Turken, Rhode Island Red, and the Auracana as a very distant last.  The poor Auracana is pecked by everyone and we barely see her because she's always under the wheel barrow.  When she does have to cross from one place to another, its at a run and squawking wildly as though to say, "Please don't peck me! Please don't peck me! I'm only passing! Please don't peck me!".  The other chickens nevertheless try to peck her as she goes by.

The pecking order is a harsh regime.  At first there was fighting over who got to sleep on the very center of an iron bench we put in the shed.  The back of the bench is slightly curved, so the center is maybe 2" higher than the sides, making it, just barely, the highest easily accessible perch.  To stop the fighting, we nailed a long shelf to the wall just higher than the center of the bench.  We figured they could all fit up there, all at the same height, all at the highest point in the room (we didn't know Fluffernutter could (sort of) fly), and order would be restored. 

But no.  The right side of the shelf is better than the left.  Chicken 1 hops on to the shelf, and moves all the way to the right.  Chicken 2 then does the same, pushing against Chicken 1 to make her move farther over.  Chicken 3 then hops up and pushes against Chickens 1 and 2, and so on.  Eventually Chicken 1 falls off the right side of the shelf, all of the chickens move over, and Chicken 1 circles around to re-enter from the left.  As far as we know, this goes on all night. 

The last few nights we've had the heat lamp on and that creates a second area of interest.  Some of the chickens still prefer the high perch even though it isn't as warm.  We're taking this as a sign that they aren't too cold.  The chickens have only really been outside once since we got them, and that was the last non-freezing day we've had.  Every other day its been raining or cold, and the most they'll do is walk to the end of the ramp outside the door and peck at the water or snow for a few seconds, as if to say "Still?".  I can relate.