Blow the Trumpet! Sound the Horns!

Tada! Today several of my co-workers and meself received gifts congratulating us for 25 years of service with the State of California, by which I mean, 25 years from each of us, not collectively, but you knew that didn't you?

We each opted to forgo our awards at a big awards celebration among our peers, settling instead for being receiving our awards while hidden away our cubicle/offices. The award consists of a nicely bound certificate of 25 years service - each of our awards were slightly overdue from 2 - 9 years depending on the individual, but who is counting, eh? In addition we got to pick a lovely prezzie of our own choice. One of my coworkers opted for a pair of uh... interesing bookends. Another got a pretty & dime-sized 14 carat gold charm of the Great California seal on a bracelet.

I opted for a pair of 7 X 35 Bushnell binoculars. I need a pair of binoculars like a need a hole in the head, but I'm donating them to the Neotropical Grasslands Conservancy. They work to keep South America full to the brink with rain forest, shade grown coffee and such, so my American birds can have someplace to overwinter. I ask you, what good is any pair of binoculars if there are no warblers stateside to stare at?

BWAAAAAAAAKKKK!

Early this morning I stood hungry and disgruntled at my stove, cooking breakfast. In the background I could hear the annoying din of a very loud TV commerical.

BWAAAAK! BWAK BWAK BWWWWAAAAAK!

I cracked a smile; it was a TV commercial featured chickens clucking at 20 decibles; some crass ad for a breakfast cereal, maybe a sleeping pill advertisment. It was only when the noise didn't cease inside of 2 minutes that it dawned on me, the racket was my own 3 chickens on the back porch having a rawkous cluck fest; a string of lound 'Buck, buck, buck, bucks' followed immediately 'B' KAWK!' , loud enough to pass as 47 chickens. Listen to them here.

Were those my little feathered angels making that racket? Had no clue they could make that much noise. Oh well. On Monday my five month old birds finally began to lay eggs so as far as I'm concerned, the little darlings can make all the racket they want.

Seven pinkish-beige eggs laid since Monday
- the pair on the right are from Barb's older hens.
I gave the girls the run of the back yard early in the day, then checked their nest box and found no eggs. I wondered therefore if they would return to the box to lay or find some kind of hiding place so I can have the joy of accidently breaking a sulferous rotten egg later in the year. But nope! Around 10 o'clock one of my hens went to their nest box. The noise in the box sounded like Spring cleaning - kicking, banging and smacking things around. Later I checked the box - ahh... a perfectly adorable little ecru egg hidden in the fragrant timothy hay. Chicken Mom - that would be me - is so very proud.

Seven perfect mini-eggs laid since Monday. Their eggs will get larger over the coming month as their chickeny innards get the hang of egg laying. Frankly the eggs are so beautiful I can't quite bring myself to eat one yet, but don't worry - I'll get there.

Little Babette at the back door is my
little slouch - she hasn't begun to lay yet

Great Eggspectations

Sounds like I just ran five miles, but I didn't - I was just too flippin' excited to breathe!