Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Treading on Eggshells
Perhaps I was naive in thinking that eggs would be that immediate. It's possible that despite
being a comedian who rails against the modern world and the tyranny of the next-day delivery,
I've actually become the kind of person who must have everything NOW! But three weeks
into our hen ownership and there wasn't a dicky-bird, nothing. I was beginning to think we'd
been sold duds. Natalie's theory for this was that they were bored, but as her theory for Junior's
sadism was loneliness, and company certainly hadn't changed his maniacal attitude towards
me, I was taking it with a pinch of salt frankly. Can hens be bored? Really? They're hens for
God's sake! Do they need to be stretched intellectually before they produce any eggs? What
am I supposed to do, read them Chomsky?
She had also suggested that we let them out of their run, but I had dug my heels in on this
- no way - at least not until they had settled in and were used to us. I still hadn't recovered
from trying to round them up the day we got them. Having finally cornered Tallulah I dived
on her, sliding through a pile of Junior's finest, and grabbed her successfully. Rather than take
the long way round to her coop I decided to try and climb through the wooden paddock fence,
but I hadn't considered firstly that the gap isn't as wide as I thought and secondly, that a winter
spent moodily downing wine and cheese while watching bad weather meant that I wasn't at my
slimmest. I got stuck. Natalie and the boys couldn't contain themselves as I lay, horizontally
trapped in the fence, covered in horse manure, still holding a frightened hen who was pecking
at my hands while I pitifully asked for help. 'If you choose to let them out,' I said to Natalie,
'you can bloody well round them up.'
'When are they going to lay eggs?' Maurice asked angrily one day, clearly running out of pa-
tience and feeding off the angry images of rioting and looting on the television news. Realising
that he was feeling the same way about the hens as I was - namely, that we'd been duped -
I felt for him, but despite my own hypocritical feelings on the matter it seemed like the ideal
opportunity for a bit of textbook parenting.
'You have to be patient,' I said, 'you can't just have what you want, when you want it. Some-
times you have to wait.' To be honest he looked a little confused by my portentous tone. 'Look
at those kids,' I said pointing to the telly, 'just taking what they want, with no consideration for
others. It's wrong.'
'What's going on?' Samuel said, walking into the lounge.
