Roll Call

Today's the day.  Yup.  All the girls have checked in.  Now I'm thinking back to very early winter when none of the girls was laying.  I remember taking in the first one, and then learning how to count all the way to two.  Surely, keeping track of the hens laying records as they were first figuring it all out would make a terrific two-year-old's project:  if you can hold up two fingers, you've got the egg counting thing covered.

Katie, Lena, Nina, Latifah and Nora laying it on the line

But now, now, it takes me both hands, full to overflowing on some days, to bring in their gifts as one of the Things I get to do today.   




"Katie Perry Chicken, thank you, dear. Such a rich shade of tan."

"Miss Nina Simone Chicken, got your work done early today as usual, I see.  Thanks so much.

"Nora Jones Hen, I do say, such a big handsome egg you lay, lovely, just lovely."

"And Queen Latifah Chicken, what do we have here in the nest? Thank you for remembering where to put it this time."

"And my darling, shy, Lena Horne Hen, such a delicate, warm egg you just laid. Thank you, sweet shy one."

That Easter Bunny!

The Easter Bunny has gone wild here.  She (Queen Latifah Chicken) has laid her eggs (or they just fell out when she wasn't paying attention) under the rooster, in the coop, in the corner treat boxes in the coop, by the feed barrel, under the tree, under the Chicken Buffet, in the hen yard, and on the grass.  She has high points for receiving the most comments about her egg laying habits.  But this is way over the top.

Extreme nesting.  

It's a wet day here in Oregon, gray, windy, with steady rain, sudden gusts, and  brief torrents.  I needed my work rain parka for all of the outside  Things I get to do today.  As I slung it round my shoulders and slid my arms into the sleeves, I noticed a heavy lump in the left chest pocket.  My hand revealed the truth--an egg.  It must have been that Easter Bunny.  She's the only one who ever drops her eggs outside the nest.



I'd better have a chat with her.  First thing you know she'll be laying them in my back pants pocket.  If I can't get her to understand, at least I'd better remember to check my pockets when I come in from the coop.