If you know us or have been following my blog for any length of time, then you know that I haven't had the best luck with chickens. However, my middle name is stubborn. When it comes to those feathered creatures I am the Little Engine that Could. There is a difference between doing the same thing over again, though, and changing and learning from your mistakes.

I have changed. I have learned.

FOUR times.

Yes, Mister and I have gone through FOUR flocks. Ok, so maybe my middle name should be chicken killer... Foxes were responsible for our first three flocks and good ol' Hank, may he rest in peace, took care of the last one. When we lost Hank, I knew it was safe to try again. Perhaps for the last time.

Here we are four months later. And guess what? Are you ready for this?

That, friends, is a dozen eggs. And I didn't buy them. For the past two years I was pretty sure that chickens didn't actually lay eggs since, out of the 80 plus ladies I have raised NOT ONE LAID AN EGG. I'm now a believer! This isn't our first dozen, we were getting one to two eggs a day, but now we've been getting 3 to 4 a day! Enough to spread the love to family and friends! Let me tell you, I am happier than a chicken on a june bug!