What the hell is that? It was soft, and kinda meaty inside. (I did NOT take pics of the autopsy--even I have my ghoulish limits.) I found a few more a day later. I looked at a million images online, and read dozens of chicken-owner blogs. The Internet told me that it is a horrifying disease that will mean that the hen will never lay again. It also told me that it could be a starter egg, from a young layer making some premature attempts to begin laying. My personal theory (because I KNOW who produced such a disgusting thing), is that the hen who lays shell-less eggs is now laying shell-less FERTILIZED eggs, and she is now birthing a flock of zombie-chicks...and I am so not a scientist. But it was kinda fun to poke at that nasty thing and try to figure out where the head was supposed to be. It says something about me that my son hovered over, trying to remember what he learned about eggs in school as we poked and prodded at it.
But, to my amazement and delight, yesterday evening, the Husband came in from shutting the girls in for the night, and showed me this very welcome sight.
ABOUT EFFING TIME!!! Although, I am a teeny bit disappointed that my zombie chick-ghoul theory was wrong. I think they must have known I was considering this as an option...
In other news, yesterday I finally got off my lazy bum and canned tomatoes. Rather than do another 7-8 quarts of my amazing arrabbiata sauce, we decided that I would can whole tomatoes. But, being the lazy person I am, I decided to can half-tomatoes instead. This meant that I didn't have to spend time trying to match sizes. This meant I just chopped the wee ones in half, and the medium ones in quarters, and the big humongous ones in whatever size felt right. So, I got 4 quarts and 7 pints canned, and put another two quarts in the freezer. I was going to do some peppers, but I found that I am clean out of pickling salt.
But, that burst of energy came after I managed to drive the riding mower into a tree as I frantically tried to wave off a big spider web I was passing through. Fortunately, all I did was unseat the wheel... but it meant that I needed to take it to our local small engine place to get fixed, which meant I didn't get to practice my lawn meditation yesterday. And boy did I need to.
In an effort to cheer me up (well, to stop me beating myself up), the Husband got me started on the big tractor. I think he must be a brave man or a very silly one to let me on a big tractor after I managed to break the small one, but he gave me a lesson on the controls. It went in one ear and out the other. Then, he rode with me for a few minutes and told me to do a pass around the upper field. I managed to do the loop without running into any spider webs or trees, and did not kill anything (that I noticed, anyway). He snapped this adorable picture of me. And yes, the tractor IS moving.
Notice the red circle. City Kitty has had to amend her fashion-nightmare country wear. When one is sitting on a riding mower or tractor, one cannot see the controls next to the seat when one has shirttails flapping. The adorable knots manage the problem nicely.
And plus it looks kinda cute.
And plus it looks kinda cute.