Camilla has been living with us for several weeks now and I mentioned a little while ago that it was about time she started contributing towards her upkeep especially as her upkeep involves several kilos of sunflower seeds, pasta and grapes in lieu of chicken pellets which she rejects unless she absolutely HAS to eat them. I think she regards them as emergency rations only.
Usually, our new hens start laying within a couple of weeks of arriving, but not Camilla. In fact, given Camilla is a tall chicken for her breed, I was beginning to think she might, in fact, be a he.
It can happen, in rare circumstances. Cockerels masquerading as hens. And for a brief and horrible day or so, I was set to wondering what on earth I would do if Camilla did, indeed, turn out to be...well, Charles. Keep him and incur the wrath of the neighbours with a raucous dawn crowing chorus? (Although they don't seem to be bother about disturbing their neighbours, aka us, with their own raucous ways.) Or send him away to a home for unwanted cockerels? I certainly could NEVER countenance culling him 'for the pot.' Hideous.
And so, it was with great joy this morning that I noticed Camilla had vanished into the pod and...TA - DAH!!
Camilla's first egg!! Small and warm and perfectly formed!
She's a lovely hen, is Camilla. Very perky and inquisitive. A bit scatty. Tall. And definitely a girl.
And this morning Andy and I found The Christmas Tree. We went to a farm nearby and were there and back within half an hour. Which has left me with the happy task of filling the rest of this Day of Glorious Eggness with embroidery, reading and maybe a spot of writing. In front of the fire. Bloomin' chilly here. Bitter wind coming in from somewhere. Some one mentioned snow.
Have a lovely week! Stay warm. Have an egg!