Go here for last week's report.
You guys were right when you said last week that one rarely sees teenage chickens. So here they are in all their adolescent awkwardness: feathers half-grown out, desperate to fly off and do their own thing but not big enough to handle the big bad world or even regulate their body temperature. Even on a sunny day they start to shiver after a few minutes outside and I have to listen to their howls of protest as I round them up and bring them back inside.
And now here are a few coop details for those of you who may be building your own this year.
Clockwise from top left: the run, where they are locked up when we're away; the entrance to the coop (a door that we can close but often leave open at night since the door to the run is locked–but it is a bit of extra protection); a shot of the inside of the shed, half of which has been fenced off to make the coop; the nesting box where they lay their eggs (for some reason they have decided the one on the right is the best one and they all fight over it); their feeders and waterers, and a raccoon-proof latch.
Somebody asked last week what you do with old hens. You can certainly keep an old hen as a pet the way you'd keep any other old pet. They will continue to lay eggs now and then. I have no intention of sending mine packing after a certain age–I think we'll just have old hens!
One last photo: this bad boy hung around the whole time I had the chicks out and got dangerously close to them when I had my back turned. Our grown hens can fight off a cat if it came to that, but not my little chicks!