After a night when the temperature went down to -4.4 degrees, I decided another hot mash was in order. We had a snow fall overnight and there was a thick ice-sheet over the chickens' water. Hot Mash time is the nearest I've seen to squabbling with this little flock. They all jump on the dish at once and although there's room for them all around the dish, there's usually one who lands on another and they settle themselves with a little squawk of protest!
Notice that the greens, usually fallen on with relish, now hold no interest at all!
