So the barn needed reorganising and that involved moving a stack of about 50 bales from the dampish bit near the door to a drier area and making the whole thing a bit neater.
I'm on my own at the moment with Sal and Pat currently south on their pre-Christmas visit, but no problem. I reckoned on a couple of hours and the exercise would be good for me. Bob the hen seemed very interested in the proceedings.
The first dozen or so came from the top and round the edges - easy. The next few proved a little more difficult. I was trying to avoid using a ladder and that involved gently moving bales out from the side of the stack.
You can see what's coming - I find it hard to believe I didn't.
I shifted the wrong bale, looked up to see the edifice tottering, cried "oh bollocks!" and stepped aside smartly as bales bounced to earth around me.
And there, right in the middle of the chaos, was a bale with a pale brown egg sitting on it. Bob, from the safety of the stable door, looked quite pleased with herself.