The Pony has been derelict in his egg duties lately. It's not so much his fault, since we have not been finding many eggs. In fact, it got to the point where Hick would ask The Pony, "Did you collect THE EGG today?" Since not much was going on in the laying department, Hick started grabbing THE EGG after feeding the livestock, and bringing it in himself. Before you go accusing my sweet, sweet Juno of partaking of the hen fruit each day while we are away at work, please consider the fact that there has been an upturn in egg production.
Last week, Hick found a hen sitting on a pile of eggs. And before that, we got three surprise chicks. So I'm thinking those crafty hens have been laying in new hiding places. Life would be so much simpler if we kept them in a pen, rather than letting them have the run of 20 acres. Of course, they prefer to stay close by, like in the front yard, the front woods, or on the front porch.
We used to get a variety of eggs, from white, thanks to the leghorns, and greeny blue, thanks to the Ameraucanas, and brown from the black silkies, and tiny brown from the black banties. We might or might not have gotten one or two from the checkerboard banty couple. Alas, many of our feathered friends are no longer with us, due to predators in the night and possibly daytime while we're away. So lateley, all of our eggs have been big and greeny blue. Like the one on the left.
Hick and The Pony were gone over the weekend, to the Missouri USBC Youth Bowling Tournament. Hick picked up a couple of eggs before he left Saturday. On Sunday, he found another one. Monday evening, he called for The Pony to come collect EGGS. I was in the kitchen when he returned with three in his hands. The Pony put them in the wire egg basket on Hick's section of the counter, by the door.
"Aren't you supposed to take the basket outside to collect the eggs? Isn't it a bit backward to put the eggs in the basket when you get back in the house?"
"Well, Dad just said to come get them. He didn't say to wash them. So I'm leaving them here for him to do that. Besides, I didn't need the basket."
"Wasn't it hard to carry three eggs in your hand and open the door?"
"Not really. And that's not all." The Pony reached down below the counter. "He started pulling out eggs like a magician pulling an endless string of handkerchiefs. "I put some in my pocket."
I imagined one or two. But no. The Pony pulled six eggs out of one pocket on his shorts.
"What if the dogs had bumped against you? Or if you had tripped and fallen down on the big flat rock that looks like the United States?"
"But I didn't. So it doesn't matter."
Oh, for the days when The Pony grabbed his little red & green Easter basket and ran out the front door looking for eggs every evening. Now he's even too cool for a green metal wire basket.