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I often pick up our eggs from the Chicken Shack on my way to the Post Office, hoping to pawn them off on anybody who will take them. Don had been teasing me about our pigeon-size eggs, telling me they were too tiny for his breakfast, so when I picked up our hugest egg ever, I gave it to him. I didn't even know it had 2 yolks, although I hear that is fairly common with young hens.
So now we have had our first two-toned egg, double-yolker, speckled egg, and shell-less egg. I am waiting to see what other surprises the girls have in store for us.
The other photo is from Friday's wreath-making class. There isn't any actual instruction, they just set you loose in a room filled with boxes of festive goodies and let you create whatever you like. This is my second year, and according to The Husband, my second Carmen Miranda wreath. Believe it or not, compared to some of the other fantastic, wild creations, full of huge pinecones and bizarro seed pods, mine is fairly boring.
My first wreath was easy—I just did it and brought it home and hung it up. This year, for whatever reason, I brought it home and fussed with it for about 3 hours after I got home, and then again the next day. I am tempted to make further adjustments today, but have sworn to let it be. Don't know why I am so critical this year...
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