My egg basket...

Late yesterday afternoon, I found another hidden clutch of eggs.The bane of raising free range girls is their fickleness to lay in one spot. There are a few predictable, orderly girls amongst the ranks, but most of them are deeply in touch with their feral side, preferring field grass and sky over fresh straw and a coop over their heads. As frustrating as it is to search sometimes, the discovery of a sweet pile of hidden eggs, always provokes a gasp that rivals finding a basket filled with synthetic grass and chocolates.