As has been typical for the last couple weeks, I did not sleep well last night.  Today we deliver a very large baby, one we worked hard to conceive and did all the right things to keep healthy.  Now, we are in a labor of sorts, unsure how long it will last, unable to focus on other things, unwilling to have that epidural (though I have to admit even at 10 am a Guinness sounds good).

This morning's coffee and email only served to enhance my nerves and I was chomping at the bit to go vote.  Living on a farm, however, prevents spontaneous desertion and chores had to be done.  That was when I started feeling better.

This is a regular chicken egg.  We get anywhere from 6 to 12 of these a day.

This is the egg I found this morning.  It's a big sucker, a double yolker, only one of three we have found since setting up the coop four years ago.  I think it's a good sign, don't you?

And here are Romulus and Remus, my neighbors three doors down who typically run from attention.  Today, they are brave, ready to form a brand new kind of Rome, a United States that lives up to its ideals. 

Farm chores complete, I drove the 16 miles to vote.  The polls were busy but quiet, a underlying tension consuming our voices.  People looked at one another carefully.  Were they gauging who one another was voting for?  Were they wondering as I was if some of these die-hard red staters were willing to take that first step and vote for change?  Thirty minutes later, I picked up my free coffee from Starbucks and returned to Rancho Laurena to wait for the baby.  I think I'll name him Obama.