After spending over a month in Oregon,
it was nice to pull into the driveway and sleep in my own bed last week.
The bed (that is not in my driveway, but inside our home in a bedroom) was nice.
Being home was nice.
But do you know what was nicest of all?
Our little suburban outlaw chickens.
The ones that remain after four, yes four roosters were weeded from the group.
Three hens and one rooster.
They started laying.
And, those chickens laid us some beautiful, perfect little eggs.
And then they stopped.
They were laying like crazy the first two days we were home.
And now...now there is only silence where the soft thud of an egg should be.
They all walk around like it never happened.
Perhaps it's no longer worth it for them.
For all I know, they could have stopped laying.
An egg strike.
Or a rat.
Or a snake.
If it is an outside job; I do not look forward to discovering what it is.
Those were some beautiful eggs...