I had just finished getting washed one freezing winter morning, “Are you ready to collect the eggs for breakfast?” my aunt said.
As I peered out of the window it was still pitch black. I fastened my coat, swept back my fringe and put on my hat.
Stepping outside with only the flickering candle light we made our way across to the hen house. When we arrived, I was really cold and hoped they had laid, my aunt reached in.
“Hooray we are in luck this morning,” she said.
I couldn’t wait to get back for a hot breakfast.