This may sound a little weird but I think one of the loveliest things about keeping hens is their first egg. To be honest, hens are an absolute joy to have around your home – the only downsides are cleaning them out and the occasional fox strike, which is always utterly horrible. Anyway, I digress. The baby chooks that we introduced you to a couple of weeks ago are settling in well and look like part of the pack now. Yesterday I went out to collect eggs and found this – about half the size of a normal hen’s egg and smeared with blood as the first one always is. There is something so beautiful about this moment that is indescribable to someone who doesn’t know the joy of hen motherhood.I know I've shot similar photos before but nonetheless I justify it on the basis that it's a special moment in my world.

We don’t know if Babs or Gladys laid it but either way, it’s received with great pleasure, both by me picking it from the nest box and DM who has just ended up with it in his tummy as part of an omelette. Even without this first blood egg, there is nothing nicer than an omelette made of truly free-range eggs, all laid in the last three days. You simply can’t experience food that’s better quality or ethically better in my view.

OK – the fact that we are on omelette, normally a dish served midweek when I’ve been dashing about, on a Sunday when technically I could have concocted something fabulous in the kitchen because I’ve been at home all day is a moot point. I have been working from 9am to 7.30pm and hence the quick fix supper.