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I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to handle my own overuse of puns. This is only my second post, and I’m already starting to think this is going to become like one of those can’t-stop-smelling-my-own-armpit-stank scenarios. You know…you’re aware you have a certain funk, but you can’t stop going back for more. I can’t fight the compulsion, and I’m not entirely sure I want to.

Let’s press on. Aaron and I ordered egg layers a few weeks ago, and they’re due to arrive the week of February 18th. Some girls look forward to flowers and chocolates in mid-February. Me? I use heart-shaped eyes emojis over receiving a box of forty-some feathered ladies. I ordered girls to lay us blue, green, and chocolate brown eggs! Tell me you’re not jealous.

We decided we’re going to focus on egg layers and produce this year, and I figure multicolored eggs are bound to be a hit with customers. Now that Baby Coll is less needy, I can play a more active roll on the farm. I’m beyond thrilled to be the chicken lady.