She is still lying there. And we are still, as quickly and as carefully as we can, removing the eggs.
Suddenly she didn't want to leave the nest. Late an evening we found her, the tiny brown hen without a name, in the hay while the others as usually sat on their perches. The next morning she was still in the same place (now in company with Agneta), and for the whole day she did not move. Under the tiny brown, 6 eggs were hiding. Two of her own, one from Agneta and three from the others. (It was not easy to take a look. The tiny brown turned her tail feathers up, sizzled and tried to bite.) I called a friend who is a farmer and ask what to do if a hen suddenly, in the autumn, decides to become a mother. The cold would make it very difficult for the chickens to survive, and I was given the advice to remove the eggs. (And throw them away as you could not eat eggs that a hen has started to brood). Hopefully there will be new opportunities for maternity in the spring!
There are places in the world (it can be Berlin or Stockholm or a small fishing village in India, or in Linköping as above) where you find yourself in a place where you stay for a couple of nights, in a strange and almost magic bubble, and then walk out of the door, a little bit... changed.
I simply LOVE these hotels.
This (again) is my work place. I love walking/driving to my office in the early mornings. I love making the first cup of coffee for the day.
The painting in the first picture is a gift that made me very happy! The small framed picture in the last photo is a print of a Mary Blair illustration that has been my number-one-inspiration for the book I have been working on for the last year. I often use one specific painting/photo/illustration as a reminder of what my intentions were from the beginning of a project. I think that helps keeping me on track.