We're Going All Natural

Last night, after careful consideration and much procrastinating, I turned off the incubator. But worry not! Because I gave the three fertile eggs to the serama pancake formally known as Vera. To my amazement and great relief, she looked at the eggs in front of her and then tapped them a bit with her beak. After a moments consideration, she scooped them under her wing one by one and wriggled about a bit until she was comfortable. I have officially placed all of my precious eggs in one basket.

I decided to go down this route for several reasons. After candling, I was relatively certain that Vera only had two fertile eggs. But the egg shell meant that I wasn't entirely sure, so I left it another twenty four hours and candled again. The egg lit up like a fairy light, but I could still see a dark mass. And the dark mass appeared to be slowly moving. It was definitely not as developed as the other embryo's, though, so I assumed that this embryo had died at some point and I decided to discard it and give Vera the remaining eggs. Once she was happily settled, I took the dud egg in to the kitchen.

Bracing myself, I decided to crack it open to see exactly what was going on. It took me a few minutes to pluck up the courage. Like most novices, I am so terribly afraid of getting it wrong. I had visions of cracking the egg only to find a tiny, viable embryo. In my rather over-active imagination, I could see a tiny chick turning to me with a reproachful look, and then I'd have to stick my head in the oven to make amends for wanton chick murder. Of course, when I cracked it I found a perfectly formed but unfertilised yolk. With slow dawning, I realised that the dark mass I'd seen slowly moving was probably this exact yolk suspended in the albumen. What a muppet.

So now it's all down to Vera.

Half Way Point

So, today is the serama hatching experiment's half way point. And I must confess to being a very bad chicken keeper. I just very quickly candled Vera's eggs while she took a food and water break. I used a tiny LED torch for mere seconds, so heat and light disruption were minimal. One egg is definitely clear, with no development whatsoever. The other two are more promising. Air sac's present and correct at the blunt end and a dark, possibly moving mass towards the pointy end. I replaced all three eggs before Vera noticed they were missing, and watched her for a moment to make sure she would settle again. Thankfully, she has. I am now wondering if I should remove the obvious dud, or whether that would upset her. Any advice from more experienced chicken people most appreciated.

Having candled Vera's eggs, it was but a moments work to briefly candle the incy eggs. Disappointingly, only 3 of the eggs in the incubator show air sacs and development. The other six are completely clear. Whether this is down to the postal system, or a cockerel not doing his job, is hard to say. So now I know that I have five precious serama embryo's at the half way point. The odds aren't great, but I shall persevere.

In other news, the flock has been a gobby nightmare. Spring has well and truly sprung, and the girls seem to think that the best possible way of celebrating this is to screech their heads off en masse at 6am. Not good. So last night I shut them in the coop hoping that the dark would keep them quiet. No such luck. At 6.30am I was ejected from the bed by the ever tolerant husband to 'shut those bloody hens up'. When I arrived, blearily, at the coop I found a general air of narkedness paired with the occassional highly indignant bok-ARK. They had clearly got up for breakfast, and finding their way barred, decided to complain loudly to the management. I'll be glad when this spring fever has passed, and no doubt so will the neighbours.

I leave you with the youngest's interpretation of an easter chick. Bet you can't guess who.