And now a few words from Michelle…
If she had used the silent hour glass no doubt their guests could still smell the aroma of the eggs cooking. But gosh darn it—they smelled delicious and it was her birthday. Why shouldn’t she get to celebrate it with one of her favorite dishes? And who could resist fresh baked bread? She was a baker for Pete’s sake! Was it her fault others in town didn’t save up and scrimp for the hard times coming? Why should she be fired for having forethought and being organized?
She took the bread out of the oven and set it on the counter to cool. Now, if she had really been selfish she could have just baked a cake. For just her and Lars. But for some reason she still thought of others.
And now Susan brings it on home….
Now on to those selfish hens who refused to lay one single egg in three weeks. Thankfully the ostrich was still laying so there would be egg aplenty in the future. But those darn hens had pecked their last handful of precious corn meal. They would be stew for the next two weeks. “One a day, one miserable instant with her broom handle, a messy trip around the back yard, a dunking in boiling water to de-feather and straight into the stew pot for the clucky lot of them,” Sophie thought. If the egg timer didn’t wake her guests, the frenzied clucking screams of a decapitated chicken surely would. Sophie marched down the basement stairs clutching her broom and narrowed a bad on Hilda the hen who had pecked her last peck.
Paddle Creek Writers 