I got two more chickens, and it's great to have four again. No more excursions outside of the coop, no matter what.
These are full-grown bantam Rhode Island Reds, and they are much smaller than my other two, one of which is a Barnevelder, and the other possibly a mixed breed. The new cockerel is fighting a little with my old hens, who are bothering "his" hen, but they are already calming down, and hopefully some day I can have happier chickens and more eggs again.
Since my rooster's death my hens haven't left the nesting boxes or laid eggs, and one of them is turning an ashen color, feathers and comb. I hope more birds and and a new rooster will help her feel better. Winter isn't their favorite time I know.
I have found a new barometer by which to judge my actions, or rather, it is an involuntary barometer that is improving me perhaps without my say. For every weak thing I do or begin to do, I ask myself if I would admire myself for it. I have felt so critical of myself lately, so ugly, so awful, and out of it has sprung this quest to improve myself. I don't want to become a slave to style magazines; rather, I could not admire myself for doing that. At the same time, I want to look right and decent and keep from embarrassing myself. I feel like my hygeine is always falling short, just like the housework. Every time I turn around, there's hair where hair shouldn't be, there's stuff under my toenails, my tee shirts are shrinking up and showing my stomach; to say nothing of my wildly oxidizing jewelry, scuffed shoes, &c. I don't understand why I don't see anyone else with these problems! Do they spend all their time at home cleaning their jewelry and ironing their