March 2, 2014 – I was minding my own business, already settled into my nest to lay an egg, when Wilma sauntered into the box next to me. She hasn’t laid an egg in weeks, so I was impressed to see her in the production side of the house. Curiously, she didn’t assume an egg-laying position. Instead, she poked her face over the divider and sharply pecked the top of my head.
“Wilma!” I shrieked. “Why did you do that?” She had totally disrupted my meditative enlightenment.
“I was over there, eating a mouthful of tasteless layer pellets, when I saw what I thought was a chubby grub sitting on your noggin. You know what they say… strike while the bug is close.”
Okay, that’s not at all how the saying goes. “…And did you get it?”
“Nope. Nothing there… must have been the shadow of your wattle.”
It seems to me that either Wilma needs glasses, or this winter has lingered so long, that she’s having insect hallucinations. Whichever the case, I’ll be wearing my colander helmet during tomorrow’s egg expulsion. So much for hen Zen.
Great! Now I’m craving grubs.