Lucky us. We’ve found yet another outside nest where the chickens are laying their eggs.
Unfortunately it’s in the middle of blackberry brambles and you literally take your life in your hands when you go out to collect them. This is the price one pays for having free range chickens, you’ve got to work for the eggs.
Emma, who is the champion egg-picker-upper for our family, has figured out a system. She takes the hiking staff I’ve had since college (which has gone with me on many adventures) and holds the brambles aside while she tries to gather the eggs into the basket with her free hand. She’s discovered that you have to be quick, a little flexible, and of good balance. The time she fell into the prickers was not her finest moment.
I know that Emma’s method is mostly effective because every day we have new eggs to eat or give away.
However, from all the “ow, ow, owing” I hear from her each day and from seeing her poor little scratched hands, I’m thinking that Emma will be one very happy camper on that day in late fall when the chickens, in preparation for our New Hampshire winter, decide to go back to using the nesting boxes inside the coop.
That’s my trusty hiking staff off to the side, that stick and I have gone many miles together.
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Wendy Thomas writes about the lessons learned while raising children and chickens in New Hampshire. Contact her at [email protected]
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