The silkies are still free ranging with the pekins, unharrassed. Mabel occasionally watches them as if deliberating their chickenness, but after a bit waddles off to eat something. The new girls have the flock completely befuddled. For their part, Margot and Kiki are content to accidentally frighten each other, and then hare round the garden like road runner. Or, they scramble into the greenhouse and throw compost everywhere. Either activity keeps them happy for hours.
Much as their appearance implies, they appear to have the brains of a toilet brush. When it rains, the pekins cock their heads to one side, mutter a bit, then run into the convent. The silkies meep (another road runner trait), run around in circles in the middle of the lawn, or stand still and drip. After two weeks of letting them in and out of their coop, I've accepted the fact that they are just not bright enough to learn to do it themselves. I now suspect that the silkie's friendly reputation is mainly down to the fact that they're too dippy to run away.
It came to my attention that Mini and Doris had some matted feathering near their vent, so the most glamorous aspect of keeping chooks fell to me again. Holding a pair of scissors in one hand, and a firmly stuck poo ball in the other, I gave the ladies a nether region trim. They are not grateful, and now look a tad bald.