Himself and His Women and the Flowers ...

This morning, we were first up and active here in the big old house in the country ... as is mostly the case but I decided I would try releasing the hens and their rooster.

It's a process.  You find all the scraps from the previous day, add some dry bread, find the big stick and then venture forth.  You walk the course to their water trough, and drop the bulk of the food there, then wander back to the big door and prepare yourself ... not unlike the prep required for an Olympic 100m dash.

I threw the door open and took off ... sprinkling bread as I ran.  Laughing because, for-goodness-sake, they're just little creatures.

I looked behind me, the little brown hen, nicknamed Curious Chicken, was right there on my heels but the others were nicely distracted by all kinds of things.  I may have thrown the food container aside as I sprinted.  They recognised it.

Gert and Momo, the dog who protects all his humans, stood up near the outdoor dining table ... I believe they were both laughing too.

Mission accomplished, I returned to the table and we sat there a while to watch them ... as you do.

I noticed a little black hen climb into the sweetpeas. She didn't come out.  I pointed it out, suggesting we might have solved the mystery of the rest of the missing eggs.  We waited until she came out then found the big stick, called Momo ... was distracted an attack of the giggles as he played sillymomodog around my feet ... then set out.

Hot on the heels of Sabine discovering 7 missing eggs at the base of the Livingstone Daisy last night, we struck paydirt again this morning.  ELEVEN eggs had been laid at the base of my beloved Sweetpeas.

I must say, the hens have good taste.  The Livingstones and the Sweetpeas would have to be two of my favourite flowers.

In the space of 12 hours we have gone from the bizarre situation of hens and no eggs to hens and 18 eggs, just in time for the big happy family returning from France.

Anyway, meet Himself and his Women.