My mom and I have a “thing” that we talk about from time to time.

I know that I’m not alone in this, so I’m going to write about it and hope that all you readers out there that are with me will be outgoing enough to comment on this and lend a little support. As I go on with my day-to-day life for some reason the most ridiculous things happen to me. Things that make you shake your head and say, “This would only happen to you, Bri.” My mom and I make it regular conversation. Only my new puppy (Nigel, if you were curious) would POOP IN MY BATHTUB. No, seriously. He pooped in the bathtub. I can’t be the only person who has had this happen to. Anyone…?

Moving on…since I bought my 4.5 acres there are have been some things that have happened that have had my family, friends and coworkers laughing at me and shaking their head. It isn’t all seriousness and health issues around the farm, folks. My hens, for example, started laying for the first time around New Year’s Day of 2018. Since the weather had turned cold I had hardly opened the coop, just every couple of days to make sure all was well in there and to add litter to the floor as necessary. I didn’t want to disturb the warmth and so I just left well enough alone. On New Year’s Day, very early in the morning, because I’m such a party animal, I walked out to let the chickens out into their yard and I heard the weirdest sound. It was one I didn’t recognize so I opened the coop and had a gander (wrong bird, but you get the idea) in there and lo and behold! Five eggs! FIVE EGGS, YOU GUYS! I squealed. I did. Then I ran inside to get my phone (to call my mom, obviously) and my very expensive camera because this was a milestone and deserved proper photographic documentation. Sadly, 4 out of 5 eggs were frozen and cracked, but that last egg? That last egg was the best egg I’ve ever eaten. And my mom was so proud.

So, now I had laying hens and my world was complete. Until I realized the obstacle course I would have to brave in order to get the eggs out of the coop. My coop and chicken run are a pretty simple configuration. I have a 4×8-foot coop that is up to 9 feet tall. There is a chicken-sized door on the side that leads into a chicken yard that is about 4 feet tall and wide and about 8 feet long. As my chickens got bigger, I extended the yard about 3 feet and that extension is about 3 feet tall. By no means am I a tall person. I’m only 5’5”. But no sooner did my hens start laying than they started to lay their eggs in their yard. The only way to get myself into the run is to open a board on top of the extended part of the run and duck in. I literally have to do the middle splits and duck crawl into the run. I call it chicken yoga. Also, my rooster had turned out to have a little more attitude than initially expected and I had to crawl in there with my arm in front of my eyes to ensure that if Tucky the Rooster decided he doesn’t like me around his ladies on that particular day, and attacked me, he couldn’t blind me! Tucky has since found a home with a new flock and owner who value him for his bad temper.

One day, I tromped through the snow back to my coop to collect eggs and I found one laying in the chicken yard that looked huge. I did my obligatory chicken yoga and ducked into the yard to grab this egg and when I picked it up my eyes watered and my thighs clenched. This poor chicken had crapped out the hugest butt nugget I’d ever seen! I paused for a minute and prayed that it wasn’t Violet, my smallest hen, who had delivered this breakfast turd because she probably had a prolapsed vent. Guys, it was that big! As you can all probably guess, when I cracked that massive bastard there was a double yolk and when I ate it, I thought of Violet and hoped that it wasn’t her. Now let’s talk about the Easter egg hunt that I conduct daily to get my eggs.

I can’t be the only one with disobedient chickens. It seems like no matter where I locate and secure the nesting boxes the hens find their way behind it to lay their eggs. It’s Easter Sunday every time I go in there because I have to look under everything to see if some wayward hen laid an egg in some random place. Sometimes they lay their egg while they roost and proceed to cover the freshly laid egg with a pile of chicken crap. Guys, I don’t totally clean off my eggs when folks buy them, but even I can’t justify selling an egg with that much crap on it! I can’t be the only one!

Historically, I have hated birds. But since I’ve had these chickens I have really come to depend on their quirkiness and hilarity. They really are very interesting to watch, soothing to listen to (as long as the roosters aren’t overly vocal) and they pay to feed themselves. They have really been a pleasure to have on my farm.

I’d love to hear your ridiculous chicken stories! Lay them on me! (See what I did there?)