We were promised that Lucy, the youngest of our three adopted geese - and the recent star of the church pantomime (live - on stage - dressed in a pillowcase) - would start laying on Valentines Day.
Not previously being aware of her romantic inclinations we duly fetched some straw for her to make a nest, and extra food to fortify her for the task - but to no avail. Each day we looked in the goose-house and hunted around the garden to see if she had found a more suitable spot.
We eventually gave up all hope of reproduction and went on holiday leaving her and her companions in the care of our good friends. No sooner did we turn our backs than these arrived..... (not the brown one - that one was laid by Peggy the hen and acts as a comparison for size purposes)!
To us at least, the arrival of the golden egg/s was a moment of triumph. And much celebration - including the cooking of them at the Sunday Night Poached Egg Club. (Ian & me and my parents). Enormous. Eggy. Gloopy. And not altogether pleasant. Still, they are apparently very good in cakes.
