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~some of the eggs |
I never appreciated eggs like I do now. Imagine. They can produce one egg every 24 hours. Think of what an egg consists of, including a hard shell and as soon as an egg is out of the hen, another is on its way to being made. That's work you never see. And to drop a fresh egg on the floor (storebought or homemade) is different now. A sacrifice was made for me to have that egg. Waste just isn't in the picture. I figure there's a spiritual metaphor tucked in there somewhere, but not sure where.
And egg-laying isn't painless. It's not like simply going to the bathroom for the hen. It takes time to get it out and it's hot work. They pant and fluster about, thought I admit that Madelyn has it easier than Anastasia, who's only laid two now. Body parts much stretch after a bit. Seems reasonable. They wait patiently, put wood chips on their backs (to make themselves invisible), and pant some more. They fuss about, then just sit---head down, backside up. Squawk. Then wet egg. Then incredibly thirsty. Grapes are a favorite as is watermelon. Anything quick and wet.
Fourth son brings home leftovers from work, where the owners daily go to the store and buy fruit, donuts and cheese for the employees. Very generous. Some we eat when he brings it home to us, and we share with the chickens. Hence fruit to spare.
Oh, and I saw a possum at the bottom of the steps from our front porch last night. I stared at it a bit---I'd been sitting out there in the dark---and it looked like a huge rat. Wasn't though. Made me jump since they're known chicken predators. Went and made sure we had extra barricades around the coop, and thankfully all was fine this morning.
You take care as well.
{egg count to date at 18 today}