Eggs · Hens


Mornings are different with hens. The girls start clucking when they get hungry, like clockwork every morning at between 7 and 7:15. I hear them outside my bedroom window, scratching their feet against the hardware cloth of their coop, ready to be let out, ready to eat and to scavenge. They really are quite a pair, the two of them up against each other, the buff one (Georgina Henrietta) following me wherever I go, and the black laced one (Eloise) following GH wherever she goes.

Will there be any treats for us this morning? Perhaps a bit of stale bread? Some grated cheese? A few Cheerios from your cereal bowl? Most mornings, that’s a no, but on the occasion that they get an unexpected morning treat, you’re rewarded with them pecking away at your feet or even out of your hand, before they go off to scavenge for their own food. I find they much prefer this method of scavenging to eating their Purina laying feed. But above all other things, they love cheese. I almost always get an egg the morning after they get some cheese.


I check for eggs every morning, but they rarely lay that early. Usually, they will go out and scavenge and eat and scratch and drink – even sometimes peck at my bedroom window as if to say, “Bit of cheese? Slice of apple? Piece of stale bread?” Then, GH will go back in the coop, and Eloise will follow or stand close by. And I will go out at noon (or 6 on the weekdays), and there will be a perfectly formed egg snuggled gently in between the mounds of pine shavings.

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