A number of the free-ranging hens love to get up on top of the stacks of hay under the porch to lay. This works great when the hay is stacked high–for them. They’re so proud of their high abodes. It doesn’t work so well for me because I can’t reach the eggs. Then it doesn’t work so well for them as the stacks start to come down and sometimes the eggs come tumbling down with the hay. And then Casper is so, so happy to clean up all the broken eggs for me while the hens squawk around as if they’ve had their homes destroyed. Which, sort of, they have, but that’s what happens when you build straw houses! Haven’t they ever read The Three Little Pigs?