little miracles

Yesterday I was out in the paddock with the horses and dogs when I heard laughter coming from the chicken coop. 
Wayne is the designated chicken feeder, putter-awayer at night, and egg collector. I love listening to him when he goes up there, filling up chicken feeders, calling the chooks…
“Chook chook chook… here you go…. No ducks! You’re a duck! Get out!” etc.
But then I heard laughter. Real belly laughter. 
This is why:
At first glance its just another egg, right?
But look again:
Its the smallest chicken egg in the world!
I’m still laughing!
I can picture it now:
The poor chicken that lays the huge eggs, straining and pushing, face all squinched up, leaving claw marks on the perch as she struggles to bring forth the monstrous eggs.
The chicken next door thinking “Eh, that’s big enough” and popping out the tiny egg…
Maybe she’s lazy. Maybe she’s going on strike – “Till we get better food, better working conditions, a new chicken coop, an entertainment centre with blu ray and wide screen TV – this is the size of eggs you’ll get from us.”
I love this egg!
I love all things miniature. I used to have a big miniature collection of anything tiny. There’s the (working) tiny spanner I have on the ute (truck to my american friends) key ring which Wayne gave me. I sold most of my miniatures a few years ago, all except the poodles, but this is one I want to keep.
Now… how best to preserve it… Boil it so its hard? Or punch holes and blow it empty which will mean no stinkiness if it breaks, but its much more fragile…?
z
PS. The tiny spanner:
P.P. S. OHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

I broke it!

I was putting the eggs into the fridge and dropped it!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WAHHHHHHHHHHHH!

I’m so sad! 😦

2 thoughts on “little miracles

  1. Wah! I was going to tell you to just put it somewhere safe and leave it. The insides will eventually just dry up. I did that with my Pysanky eggs ages ago.

    Now you need to find the right chicken and ask her to make you another baby egg.

    Like

  2. *S* Sorry about the teeny egg! We used to go to the Italian Market in Philadelphia, PA (famous now, just an open-air market in the city, then). The big poultry place had racks and racks of odd eggs. The first one a chicken lays is usually tiny and often oddly shaped. No, never brought any home.

    My ex gave me a Pysanky Egg one Easter. They're gorgeous! Now I can't find it. The Ghost of Paddock Way seems to have gone off with it!

    Like

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