Eggs

on Aug 20 in General by

My chickens are currently laying about four eggs a day, which is more than enough to feed my two a day habit. Unfortunately I’m pretty much alone in my egg scoffing here at Hughes Towers. The kids don’t really like them and Kerry, being the picky vegetarian that she is, isn’t keen on eating anything that dropped out of a chickens bottom. Especially a chicken that she’s met face to face.

No, I don’t get the logic of it either. But this is a woman who decided that it would be a good idea to marry me, so I’d rather not challenge her thought processes too closely or she might come to her senses and realize what she’s done.

I have therefore found myself with a surplus of eggs, and so have been distributing them to friends and family like a demented easter bunny. If you know me in real life and haven’t had any foisted on you yet, then rest assured you will eventually.

I’m not giving away any of my double yokers though. I’m getting about two of those a week and they are guarded like the glittering jewels of eggyness that they are.

I do have one serious competitor for the eggs however:

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Broodyness is when the natural instinct of a chicken to incubate eggs takes over. Forsaking the prospect of having fun destroying the garden like all the other chickens, this particular hen chooses to spend her time sitting on eggs in a dark box and growling at anyone who lifts the lid.

Yes growl. And what’s more you have to physically wrestle her off the eggs too. No simple shooing will get her to move.

The sad thing is that there isn’t a cockerel in sight, and so even if I wasn’t stealing the eggs from her every day there would be no chance of any of them hatching out. Stupid bloody chicken.

I’m not sure how to break her out of her obsession. The internet recommends moving her to a different coop, but unfortunately I don’t have one. There is also something called a “anti-brooding cage” which, when described, sounds like something found in a Japanese prisoner of war camp. I’m going to give it a few more days of me turfing her out of the nest box every time I pass the coop and then I’ll consider bringing out the anti-brooding cage and the thumb screws.

Stupid bloody chicken.

Related posts:

  1. Sure as eggs is eggs
  2. In answer to Jeff’s question
  3. Where’s Wally the Chicken?
  4. Cluck me
  5. Hatching a plan

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