She’s not picky

I have one Rhode Island Red hen that chooses to lay her eggs somewhere on my porch every day.  Forget about going back to the chicken coop, that would take way too much time and effort on her part.  Besides, wouldn’t I find it easier to get her egg if she lays it right outside the door?

Here lately she’s just been laying her egg on the pile of feed bags in the corner.    Today she found someplace softer and I finally found it when I went to get feed ready for Junior and Duchess.

 

That’s right, in the bag of beet pulp.  *sigh*

So tonight after feeding I did something unheard of… I cleaned the porch.  For those of you who have seen my porch, I’ll give you a minute to let that soak in, and to collect your jaw off the floor.

 

All better?

All the horse feed went into tubs, the floor was swept, the feed bags and other burnable trash was thrown on the burn pile, and… ready for it?  I threw the dog beds in the wash (after I removed Jelly Belly to a safe place)!

Amazing, huh?  I thought so, too.  Especially since I sneezed the whole bloody time.

I suppose I should clean the house next.  The little red hussy was checking out the movie collection today when I had the door open.

 

 

Next I’ll find an egg next to Glenn’s copy of “Wayne’s World”. 

 

Only fitting, I suppose.