Feed me, feed me

Another night of gales and rain. The hens' patch is becoming wet and muddy so feeding inside stops the food being lost. At least I've made them a nice long trough out of guttering and re-felted the roof so they're ok. The poor old cockerel (named Galahad by my loved one) needs a bit of positive discrimination to make sure he gets something near his share - he's the literal embodiment of henpecked.