I feel a bit squidgy inside, gooey almost. It’s not from the glut of Easter eggs that I have eaten (that has been hampered by the fact that there seemed to be an Easter egg shortage in Hertfordshire this year) but because of fluff, and newborn-ness and big eyes and wobbly, unsure legs. Shall we
Yes, you read the title of this post correctly. I have spent most of the day staring at an egg. It’s not just any egg though, it’s an egg with personality. To be fair the personality probably comes more from the chick inside it than from the egg itself as the shell is the only eggy bit left.