And so the making continues, interrupted only by cups of tea and chats with Dad who has been set to work mending the hen-house. You see our hens are undoubtedly laying but we have no idea where. Not for want of looking. In fact, whenever small children come to the house I excitedly suggest we go on a hen hunt. They’re little faces light up as they consider the crunch of a chocolate bunny or the gleaming foil of a peek a boo egg. They soon tire and look dejected when they realise , at best they’ll get a boiled egg and, more than likely nothing after looking behind every hedgerow, under every tyre and inside every dirty bucket.
So Dad is mending the hen-house with the intention that we lock in the hens at night and only let them out when the have graced us with an egg! So Pru, Aggi, Samantha, Deirdre and Stacey had better brace themselves for confinement and a modicum of discipline!
Anyhow…here’s what I’ve been making
I asked Dad’s opinion. He told me that I had better introduce a branch or a leaf or two otherwise it just looks like criss- crossing train tracks. (mental note: Bleedin’ MEN and their practical minds). He had a point though.
Tomorrow, I sew!