Those chickens! They are not worth their salt. No, they can’t be trusted at all. Unreliable. Flighty. Mike went to check on them this morning – to see how they were adjusting to their new precious eggs (as opposed to the DUDS they’d been sitting on) only to discover they’d flown the coop! Or the window well rather.
Mike had just been praising them – hinting that I could never be the mother these hens were (because when have I ever been willing to sit on my kids for 21 consecutive days? – never mind the whole carrying them inside of me as they grow larger and larger for NINE months). But who’s the good mother now?
And, actually, one of the two broody hens has half heartedly returned to her little clutch – but she doesn’t seem to be exhibiting the kind of fortitude I expect from a chicken who is serious about this hatching eggs business. The other has simply turned up her beak at these new eggs: insisting that she, for one, won’t be found raising some other hen’s little brats. Can you imagine? What foolish pride. Fine, go back to sitting on your plain old yolk and whites eggs. See if I care. Bad chicken. I now officially prefer the black hens to you – even though their front breast feathers keep going missing and I constantly avoid looking at them because they look kind of gross that way.
4 comments:
yeah so even though you are just a patient individual I am sorry your chickens flew the window well!! I am starting to buy raw milk and maybe I will have to get some fresh eggs too? Have you had any yet and if so can you taste the difference?
Tash, we've had fresh eggs off and on over the years -- not so much for organic reasons, but because Mike thinks chickens are the greatest animal ever. I've never been much of an egg fan though -- so when we've not had chickens and buy our own I never eat them outside of baking with them. When we do have chickens we always get way more eggs than we eat so then I am forced to start making scrambled eggs and egg cassseroles and the like -- so I can't really compare or tell if they taste better than store bought (since I only end up eating them when we have a surplus of fresh we must rid ourselves of).
You know, this makes no sense to me. I don't even know what a broody hen is. But, from all this talk I take it to mean you guys are becoming farmers. Man, y'all were meant to live in TX. Everybody here's got themselves goats and chickens and horses and the like. Me? Well, I got a new house with a neighbor's dog who likes to come into my new house and sniff around for what the workers have left. Oh, and poop in my yard. I am NOT looking forward to that dog when I actually move in! Broody hens...what that heck does that even mean?!?
haha your blog is adorable! thanks for your comment on my blog as well, and may I be so bold as to ask.... how can I follow your blog? I am loving the way you write!
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