Oh, HERMIONE. Groundhog edition.

I’m having a hard time filling orders these days. Between Trixie’s perpetual non-laying, Maisie’s sporadic laying, Alexia’s small eggs, Buffy’s tendency to go broody, and Pip’s death, the best I can expect is five carton-sized eggs per day. That’s the best I can hope for.

So, imagine how desperately I went looking for Hermione’s late-afternoon egg yesterday. I looked everywhere. I looked in The Hideaway, The Annex, The Baby Box, The Tennis Racket, and The Wicker Chair On The Front Porch. Nothin’. Zip, zilch. Nil, nada, nulla, niente.

Now, Hermione is not the most prolific of layers. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again…”Production”, my ass. She’ll lay two days, maybe three, then take a day off. I don’t mind, usually; her eggs are huge and gorgeous, inside and out. But, every egg is precious these days.

So, no Hermione egg yesterday. Bummer. Oh, well; there’ll be one early today, right? Imagine my confusion and consternation when, upon fetching the girls’ scratch this morning, I saw that the usual few who follow me to the bin were distracted, eating something off the barn floor. Upon closer inspection, I discovered…a fragment of dark brown eggshell. Only one of Heedley’s Hens lays shells that colour. HERMIONE. And there was a heat lamp knocked over in the shelving that holds The Tennis Racket…

That’s what I know for sure. Everything that follows is conjecture.

I posit that our friendly neighbourhood groundhog got very, very lucky last night, luckier than he has ever been in his little groundhog life. I propose that I somehow didn’t find a late Tennis Racket egg, and he, on his late night rounds discovered it and was all…cha-ching!

Being a groundhog, he ate the creamy center and left the crunchy shell behind, for Hermione and some 2.0’s to enjoy in the morning.


It was pretty funny watching Hermione, normally the mildest mannered of hens, violently chase away two Australorps so she could eat the shell all by herself. Her own shell.

There’s only one small problem with this theory. Hermione is nesting on The Tennis Racket as I type this, at 8:30am…


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