Gathering the eggs every evening has become the boys chore, which they usually enjoy doing. But number one hurt his ankle playing at Grandma’s house and number two is not quite old enough to carry the egg basket with out dropping it (it is heavy when full of eggs). I was still cooking dinner so I asked dear hubby if he would gather them and thankfully I did.
Most of our chickens live happily in their moveable coop safely behind electric poultry netting. But I have a few adventrous hens that escape the netting everyday to roam the farm. This rebel gang of hens has left a path of destruction around the farm eating all the lettuce in the garden and laying their eggs where ever they feel like. It is an Easter egg hunt everyday. We have found eggs in the barn, goat shed, greenhouse, and just laying in the yard.
Now to get back to why I am thankful not to have collected the eggs. So hubby was is the barn looking for eggs. There are two doors in the floor of the hayloft to drop hay down to the cows below. Just below the doors is a rock ledge at the top of the wall that collects a little hay. This is the hens favorite place to lay eggs. The eggs can be reached by blindly sticking your hand in the nest from below or from above through the doors in the hayloft. I always choose to gather eggs from above and hubby usually chooses below. This time was the exception for him and as he reach down into the nest he saw a black rat snake with a large lump in him. So he went to remove the snake (which is something I would never do) from the nest and the snake started to slither away. In the snakes hast he pushed the egg back out of his body and mouth. The egg looking completing fine without a crack was brought into the house and hubby attempted to give it to me. Thanks, but no thanks was my response and a very thankful feeling that I was not the one to collect eggs.