It's time. Time to turn the egg turner off. Time to press my ear to the incubator and listen for peeps. Time to pace back and forth wringing my hands. Time to get the brooder ready. They'll be hatching any day now.
We are down to two of Blackbeard and the Wench's eggs. I don't know which because I can't tell their eggs apart. Four of Jack and Sweet Pea's. And six of Jack and Precious. Unless Pearl or Minni happened to sneak one in there disguised as Precious. If we hatch one with feathered feet, we'll know it was one of theirs.
Then there is the lean, mean egg hatching machine on the back porch. Polly is still working hard at hatching her little clutch of eggs. She refused to get off the nest long enough for me to candle them. I tried once to scoot her out of the way and she nearly ripped my arm off. Did you know chickens can growl? I hope she's actually sitting on something that's fertilized.