One of our hens laid a pretty brown egg covered with white speckles. I’ve never seen one like it before. I think it’s from Amelia Cordelia, our three-year-old Cuckoo Marans, since there were also her tell-tale brown spots on it. I’m pretty sure the white spots are calcium deposits, brought on by her advanced (for a chicken) age. The other usual suspect is poor nutrition, but as the chickens’ diet is organic feed, kitchen scraps, bugs, and whatever else can be foraged on an acre, I’m pretty sure that’s not the reason.
We found two other very normal looking eggs. One blue, and one brown. I know there is more laying going on, as I can hear their triumphant cackles and songs all morning long, but for the life of me I can’t find them. There’s probably still some egg-eating going on, unfortunately. We’re going to have to figure something out soon.
I weeded around the raspberry canes yesterday. There won’t be many berries this season, but some. Enough to whet the appetite, anyway. There are a lot of primocanes (first year growth), so next year’s harvest is shaping up to be more productive. As long as I can keep the deer away, anyway.
My plan for today is to spread a good layer of manure around the canes, and mulch heavily. I’m not sure when that was last done – certainly not in the last three years – so I think it’ll be appreciated. I should do the same thing to the marionberries, and the blueberries too, I suppose.
Sigh. The works seems never-ending sometimes. The weeds unstoppable; the needs of vegetation surprisingly high-maintenance. But then I imagine the fruits of these labors, plump and sweet next summer in a bowl of cream or straight off the vine, and the rewards seem worth it after all.