43 eggs this week, up slightly as a couple of Wyandottes have started to produce pullet eggs, and someone else is making soft shelled eggs.

Earlier this week, one of the New Hampshire hens started to go through one of the gaps in the goat fence and paused halfway through. Jean-Bob, the Wyandotte roo, saw her crouched down and immediately his desire took over. He ran after her. He was almost to her when she gave a little hop to the other side of the fence. And Jean-Bob hit the fence like a cartoon cat.

Of the breeds of chicken I have, I like the New Hampshire Reds and the Red Sex Links the best so far. The RSL's have lots of personality, but I've decided they're stubborn. They lay eggs where they want to lay them, and no amount of re-education seems to convince them of otherwise.

Last week we got a load of new hay piled in the tack room, and yesterday one of the RSL's found a small gap between a couple of bales and decided to settle there. I didn't want her to lay there, so I took a broom, and with the broom end, gently coaxed her out. She didn't take well to the disturbance and ran right for me, jumping onto my shoulder and using it like a springboard to flutter out of the tack room. So I have now officially been run over by a tractor, a goat cart, and a chicken.

Some city cousins were over on Sunday and my daughter gave them a ride on the goat cart - good practice for the fair. The less-experienced-on-the-cart goat performed like a champ. Later, when the cousins were gone, we put the more experienced goat on, and he was an utter pill. Didn't want to do anything.

Saturday night dinner: Corned beef hash and a huge mess of eggs.