It's Shrove Tuesday so we'll be having pancakes tonight. Luckily the hens are back in lay so we have a plentiful supply of eggs - mostly thanks to our super hen Blossom, a pure white beauty who is always on the loose seeking out greener pastures, but returns to lay an egg every day - and hers are the largest and whitest, though she's the smallest hen in the flock.
I have to admit that though I love to eat our eggs I can only do so if I don't think closely about the fact that our hens lay them in perpetual and fruitless hope of rearing chicks. We've no cockerel so Blossom, Sue and Hayley will never hatch an egg. Do they realise? Do they mourn their unfulfilled motherhood?
To overcome my guilt I thank the hens every day they lay, and admire the perfection of each egg I collect. Is it enough, or should I eat only nuts and berries? Hmmm, I think I'm too fond of pancakes, omelettes, sponge cakes, and fried egg sandwiches.
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