S.U.N. eggs: one. Nest box eggs: none. Feed hopper: half full. Conditions for sitting: perfect.
One last egg and the nest is finally ready for sitting. We have nine eggs (a very manageable number) and I’m on first duty, so I will just casually disappear for three hours or so.
Later... hmm, a bit bored, maybe I am too old for this after all. Must stick with it. Must stick with it.
How about a poem:
A Poem about Sitting by Ruby
I love sitting on eggs
Except for the pain in my legs
The pain is a strain
And goes straight to my brain
Then I walk like on two drunk pegs.
A good effort considering the uncomfortable position I’m in, I reckon. Brian is doing the first overnighter. Steve and I hope to hem Jack in on the perch so Jack won’t notice Brian’s absence.
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