We got our first egg on Sunday!!! Rick was out at the coop in the afternoon, at about 1:30, preparing to insulate it for the winter when he found the perfect little pullet egg you see in the photo above. (The egg in my left hand – right side of the photo – is a large egg from the supermarket.)
He ran into the kitchen (where I was canning pizza sauce) to show me. “It’s still warm!” he said excitedly. I was so thrilled, I went crazy for a few moments and started running around like, you know, a chicken with its head cut off.
“Let me feel it! It IS warm! Do you know who laid it? Where was it? In the nest box? You gotta take a picture! Go quick! Put it back for the picture. No, wait, come back – I’ll get the camera out of the office! Oh, it’s sooo perfect!”
Later I went out to praise the girls. I’d been telling them every day lately that we need to start seeing some eggs. I never thought I’d be the kind of person who talks to chickens, but apparently I’ve taken a turn. I think they try to talk back, too. Whenever they see us, they start up the noise. Not the quiet clucking they do when they’re scratching in the dirt. It’s a kind of continuous guttural sound. When we talk to them, they try to get up to eye level by jumping up on the roost of their tractor, or on the ladder to the coop if they’re in the pen, and they keep the noise going.
I'm wondering which one did the deed. A few weeks ago, Amelia, one of the Barred Rocks, appeared to have the most developed comb and wattles. Tracy, one of the Rhode Island Reds, was not far behind. But just lately, Tracy suddenly seemed to pass Amelia. I could probably figure it out by checking their vents, but I think I’ll let the girls keep their mystery for now.
He ran into the kitchen (where I was canning pizza sauce) to show me. “It’s still warm!” he said excitedly. I was so thrilled, I went crazy for a few moments and started running around like, you know, a chicken with its head cut off.
“Let me feel it! It IS warm! Do you know who laid it? Where was it? In the nest box? You gotta take a picture! Go quick! Put it back for the picture. No, wait, come back – I’ll get the camera out of the office! Oh, it’s sooo perfect!”
Later I went out to praise the girls. I’d been telling them every day lately that we need to start seeing some eggs. I never thought I’d be the kind of person who talks to chickens, but apparently I’ve taken a turn. I think they try to talk back, too. Whenever they see us, they start up the noise. Not the quiet clucking they do when they’re scratching in the dirt. It’s a kind of continuous guttural sound. When we talk to them, they try to get up to eye level by jumping up on the roost of their tractor, or on the ladder to the coop if they’re in the pen, and they keep the noise going.
I'm wondering which one did the deed. A few weeks ago, Amelia, one of the Barred Rocks, appeared to have the most developed comb and wattles. Tracy, one of the Rhode Island Reds, was not far behind. But just lately, Tracy suddenly seemed to pass Amelia. I could probably figure it out by checking their vents, but I think I’ll let the girls keep their mystery for now.
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