Bush eggs: one. Nest box eggs: zero. Feed hopper: empty. Worms in easy reach after the rain: many.
Checked on Steve. It rained last night and isn’t sunny today either. She looks cold, miserable and rebellious. She muttered something about not wanting to be a mother after all and something about a nice warm nest all to herself. I told her to pull her head in (although, to be honest, it was already rather tucked away) and that motherhood was by far the best thing that could happen to a hen. After my roasting (excuse my language!) she looked rather deflated, but agreed to stay sitting. Jack went and had a supportive talk to her too, which was good.
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