An eggceptional First Sunday in Advent

Advent is a time of waiting, of preparation for the Christmas miracle. Of being mindful of the great gift God presented humanity in the form of a helpless baby destined to die thirty-some years later on a cross. My husband and I appreciate the season of Advent, and this afternoon I arranged four candles on our coffee table. Then it was time to attend to chicken maintenance; I needed to add sand and wood ash to the dustbathing box, change out the waterers both in the coop and run. And then clean out poop. Because even if today is the first Sunday of Advent, those chickens aren't going to do any of those tasks for me.

In letting the hens out of the run, I guided them into the garden. A couple wanted to poke around freely, but I had things to do and fortunately the chickens acquiesced. In counting them, I was down one, and saw no one loitering in the run. My hubby headed to the coop to see who was dithering. Observing the hens, I realized Camilla was missing, which seemed odd; she's usually the first out of the gate when it comes to field trips. Then my beloved hollered, "She's in a nesting box!" I wondered if I'd heard him right; was one of our chickens actually thinking about laying an egg???  

My spouse has been far more interested in the possibility of eggs than me, in part that he likes eggs more than I do, lol. Yet both of us have been of the mind that eggs from just turned five-month-old hens wouldn't occur until next spring. Chickens require plenteous light, and these hens aren't even six months old. Upon his declaration, I secured the garden door, then headed to the coop, where he was standing on the stump that bolsters the coop door, peering through the lattice. "She's moving the straw around in the box," he said.

It truly seemed unreal that on the first Sunday of Advent one of our chickens was going to lay her (and our) first egg!  It wasn't surprising that it was Camilla; she and Nadia have had red combs for ages, and of course Camilla is the LEAD hen. We stepped away, me back to the garden, while my hubby headed to his workshop. Within about ten minutes, Camilla exited the coop into the run, striding toward the open door. I called to my husband, who went to the coop. As I opened the garden door for Camilla, Owl Chicken rushed out, followed by Nadia. Another field trip commenced and as other chickens flew out of the garden, my husband approached, a brown speckled egg in his gloved hand.

Our first egg, courtesy of Camilla.

"She pecked at it," he said, a smile in his voice, "but she didn't crack it open."

I smirked; leave it to Camilla for cannibalistic tendencies to emerge. I took the egg, still warm, and studied it. Then I gave it back to him; he would take it inside while I retrieved treats to lure the hens into the run. Too much going on today for any kind of field trip!

Camilla post-laying, bless her!

Because Camilla had pecked the egg, we decided it needed to be eaten quickly. My husband took that honor, frying it himself. He said it tasted like an egg, lol. The shell was of average thickness, the yolk pretty dark. Ironically we bought a dozen eggs yesterday, not that we expect Camilla to start laying daily. I'm still shocked she laid one at all! But that's not the end of this story.... 

After he ate the egg, we returned to our previous chores. I was sifting sand and ash for the dustbox, seated near the coop. I could hear one of the chickens inside the coop, or something was banging around. Getting up from my chair, I opened the door to find Nadia in the end nesting box!

Nadia in her box.

Were these chickens plotting some kind of outrageous coup? My husband approached, and I told him. He opened the door, finding Nadia now in the box Camilla had used, on the far left. My hubby and I looked at each other in disbelief, then he closed the door, and I returned to my chair, wondering if our two most physically mature birds were going to produce eggs. Nadia is smaller than Camilla, in fact she's our most petite hen. Yet she kept investigating the boxes, finally settling on the far right box. And about twenty quiet minutes later (no egg song from either hen today), there waited another egg!

A Barnevelder egg, which my husband will probably have tomorrow for breakfast.

Fortunately Nadia didn't tamper with hers, which was a little smaller than Camilla's, also a lighter shade of brown with no speckles, which are a Welsummer feature. I put extra hay in the boxes, then added sand and ash to the dustbox, then shoveled poop, during which time the chickens were coming and going; they like investigating the cleared coop floor. My husband hauled away the poo, then acted as a guard to the open coop door as I brought in new hay, as well as new straw, which they ADORE, poking and scratching around for seed heads. We finally left them to their devices, still scratching our heads over two eggs being laid, and even now, writing about it hours later, I am gobsmacked at how this day has progressed.

Camilla's egg after being washed is on top, Nadia's below it. I add this shot merely for colour comparison.

Not that chickens producing eggs is miraculous, but it's quite eventful, especially on this first Sunday of Advent. God works in mysterious ways, large and small, and who knows what tomorrow will bring! If nothing else, two of our chickens are now egg layers. And the season of Advent warms my heart for the goodness of Christ in all facets of life.