I think the hens are subscibing to the Met Office's website; they're sulking. Each time the forecast is for a dry day their hopes are dashed and they're reduced to mumbling amongst themselves, "...all very well for ducks...", "...water off a D--'s back, hah...". The broody hens have given up, there is clearly no hope when the chicks will have to learn how to swim before they can walk, and even the Sisters of Doom (#s 1&2 in the pecking order) have stopped chasing magpies from their enclosure.
We've moved them to new pecking ground, given them extra things to perch on, but they couldn't be less interested - its the splash when they fly down, dirties the feathers and makes a dreadful mess! Next stop, some budgie style mirrors or tinkling bells to keep them amused. Thankfully their biological spring clocks haven't stopped ticking and we're dining on omelettes, meringues and all things eggy (cakes, custards, more meringues, pancakes if the rest of the family had their way!).
However, on a positive note, we're doing our bit for the environment with water butts full, the plants (those that aren't floating off to the rhynes on their own personal islands) are well watered, the hosepipe is coiled - well that's a lie, but it isn't being used - so bring on that BBQ summer that we were promised last year.
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