EGGS

“After just a few weeks, the lovely little baby chicks became obnoxious, awkward, half-bony feathered adolescent animals. . . Why did the country life seem so appealing? And how did we get stuck raising 48 unruly chickens? . . .“

In pursuit of eggs (and meat) we impulsively bought an advertised 50# bag of chicken feed from a local feed store and as an incentive we were given a cake box size of 50 day-old baby chicks. The whole terrifying story is described thoroughly in A Homestead Decade – How Crunchy Granola Changed My Life (Amazon e-book, $2.99). As explained, we newbies to the homestead farm did not know how fast chickens grow, which included their rampant developmental stages (libido), and ultimate redistribution from our quiet little chicken yard to various outlets including a community freezer locker.

Four gentle hens remained in our barn happy to be away from raging roosters. Everyday their little nests offered up two or three big brown tasty eggs. Each morning I gave the egg time in admiration of its unique structure, value, and timely presence (24-hour production!). And yes, great appreciation to its original purpose. The hens developed a symbiotic relationship with us as we did with them. It was a calm time after the initial storm of 50 fast growing chickens was over.

Today, no longer on the homestead, I buy eggs in a grocery store. I try to purchase with a humane sense knowing that I have to trust the grower is really a local farmer and his or her chickens are as happy as our remaining hens. I know all the concerns – we as a nation just cannot satisfy the insatiable demand for eggs for our vast population with home grown free chickens. It is just not practical – unless . . . we carefully consider a small collection of backyard hens even in the middle of the city. What was that? Did I hear a groan? A quick calculation of reasons why chickens are just not an urban or even suburban animal? They’re dirty, noisy, they attract vermin. Not like dogs.  Wait ‘til I tell you about backyard goats. Just kidding . . . sort of.

I do have a fascinating egg story. In checking on the history, value, and cultural attachment to eggs in Wikipedia (www.wikipedia.org ) I saw that eggs were also used along with vegetables as a form of vandalism that insults with little damage. The story goes that when Candidate Harry S. Truman made a train stop through town, the local newspaper stated that he was pelted with rotten eggs.  River Grandma (also in the Crunchy Granola book) who  had a strong partisan political view, scoffed at the news story muttering loud enough for family nearby to hear, “the eggs were not rotten.”

Here’s to a pan of boiled eggs in the refrigerator for a quick protein boost.

Enjoy!

Affectionately,

Helene author of A Homestead Decade - How Crunchy Granola Changed My Life (Amazon Kindle book, $2.99)