Free range has its limits

We've been keeping hens for a few years now. They provide the eggs for our busy kitchen. If you've had breakfast here, then chances are you've tasted some of Virginie's baking, which is always done with our fresh eggs.

The girls, as the squad of poultry is known, think they run the place. They've become unruly. Repeated attempts to hem them in and pen them up have failed. These fat birds (no insult intended) were actually able to fly out of their last 5-foot high pen, after a running start.

Their free range existence had become completely incompatible with our vegetable garden. As soon as we'd plant something, they'd dig it up. They'd peck at young shoots, puncture tomatoes and drink from the drip irrigation.They'd lay eggs here, there and everywhere.

So the decision was made to get serious. Over the past two weekends a friend and I have been building transportable chicken coop (of my own design; plans available upon request) that is cross between Guantanamo and the International Space Station. We put it into orbit Sunday evening and by Monday noon they'd laid a handful of eggs. So no hard feelings on their part, I guess.

For the moment at least now our egg supply is safe, as are our vegetables.