The Machinist loves to spoil our hens. "They give us so many eggs, Babe, they deserve to be spoiled". He gives them layer pellets and scratch mix WITH molasses. They love it. They lay their 'gifts' to us all over the hen coop, and the Machinist delights in seeking and finding them. Each day, twice a day, he heads off under the rose arbour at the bottom of the garden to the hen house beyond. Each day, twice a day, he returns to the house embracing a shirt full of eggs, catches our eye, and counts the eggs, rather audibly, as he places them, ever-so-gently into the porcelain egg container.
"One, twooooo, threeee ....... fifteeeeeen, sixteen!"
That's right. Up to sixteen eggs a day from nine Isa Brown hens (and who knows if any from the older two white-feathered hens).
Mind you, Number One Son can eat the eggs as quickly as the Machinist gathers them.
The other night we were checking out Youtube, and came across this delightful, endearing video entitled "Screaming Eggs". We had such a good laugh and are still quoting these poor chaps:
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3 comments:
The girls in our house joke that men, in general, seem to have a 'thing' about with eggs. Left to their own devices eggs would probably figure on the menu each and every day...and then some! :D
I have always wanted to have chickens! Gathering eggs would be so rewarding.
hahahaha, Helen, that video was sooo funny! I can just imagine you all quoting and giggling about that. :)
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