So two weeks on from our delivery of ex-commercial hens, we’re suffering a bit of an egg-gate situation.
I lovingly painted signs eggs for sale, created an egg-cellent display in which to sell my eggs and even made loyalty cards-but nine boxes of eggs and get your tenth “absolutely free.”
I was really happy. Pancake Day helped or not, as the case may be.
By Wednesday, we had completely sold out. No yolk.
So yesterday Hubster came in and sternly said “we need to talk.”
Many things went through my head, the utmost, what has he found out about or what have I done.
It turns out, he has a case of egg envy.
He thinks the eggs should be for the family, not for me to sell. The rant went on for a good ten minutes. I should have filmed it.
The breaking-point being when he breakfasted in his mother’s house and there were no eggs. “How do you expect me to function in a morning without eggs?” was my favourite phrase.
I thought it was hilarious. I asked permission to bake later that day and whether we should stop having scrambled eggs for lunch.
Then the hens, obviously cottoning-on to the situation in doors, played the ultimate trump card. Yesterday they laid only two eggs. Yes out of 23 hens, we got two eggs.
I was laughing my head off. I did reluctantly hand over the two eggs to Hubster to keep the peace.
I then hot footed it to the feed merchants to shell out for some mixed corn for the ladies. I thought maybe they were bored with their layers pellets although, they do get other bits throughout the day.
As I was heaving the corn out of the car, one of the workmen asked if I had any eggs. I had to reluctantly admit that the hens were on strike but as soon as they started laying again, he could have a box.
When a hen reaches one year of age, their laying does tail off a bit but I think yesterday’s crack was extreme.
We’ll see what today brings.
Maybe the girls were just egg-sausted.