I feel that in many ways, I lived a charmed life when I lived with my parents. My mom and dad wanted to give us (they’re children) a lifestyle that would be healthy and safe for us. My earliest memory is living in Northeast Portland and going to school in not the greatest area of town. One of my Grandma’s lived 2 blocks behind us and she was held at gunpoint and robbed. Kids were constantly harassing my brother and I and my parents just wanted to get us out of there. So they sold our house in the city and while they built our house in the country from the ground up, we lived in a haunted rental house…yes it was really haunted.
I will always be thankful to my parents for providing me a home in such a wonderful area. They found property in Redland and over many stressful months they built us a wonderful home on 1 acre of land. One of the first things we did upon moving to the country was we got chickens. My dad built a coop and we all got a chicken and a rooster. My brothers and I were allowed one chicken a piece and my mom had a Rooster. My chicken was gorgeous and black and I named her Raven. She was an amazing bird…she used to fall asleep in my arms. My brother Dustin picked out your typical white hen and named her Mrs. Clucks and Byron picked out a more golden brown hen and named her Amity. I seem to remember the Roosters name being Dough boy…I can’t remember why but he was a beautiful Rooster and I thought it was cool that he had feathers on his feet that made him look like he was wearing colorful bell bottoms. There are many downsides to raising chickens…they are filthy animals and they take a lot of work. Making sure they are getting medication if they have worms, making sure they are warm enough in the winter. Cleaning the coop. But the fun parts are they make wonderful pets if you get nice birds and they lay delicious eggs. Which is the topic of this post.
Never before moving to the country had I tasted real chicken eggs.I’ve always had the watered down ones from the store. And now that I have had them for so long in my life…I have a very difficult time buying eggs from the store…the eggs are just not as good as fresh farm eggs. Anyone who has ever eaten a real farm egg would know that. Farm Eggs are beautiful. Have you ever looked at them and marveled over their beauty? Their sizes and colors are never the same. Some chickens lay these itty bitty eggs that are just so cute you almost hate to crack them open. Some of the eggs are huge and some are just a normal average size. But then you get into the color aspect of it and it makes them even more amazing. That is until you break the shell and get your first peak at the yolk. The shell will suddenly pale in comparison to the color of the yolk. It’s the most vivid color of yellow and orange mixed into a rich and thick combination. You can’t find anything that beautiful in the stores.
Store Eggs just aren’t as pretty. It’s like when you go to a restaurant and order Jello…but the person next to you orders Creme Brulee…which dessert are you going to want more…and more importantly…which is more appealing to the eye, Jello ( which they serve in hospitals) or Creme Brulee? Same thing goes with eggs…you want something that is appealing to the eye. All the eggs look the same. How yummy does that look? And then you have to muddle through the billions of egg cartons to find some eggs that are without cracks. Aside from that…we don’t really know where the eggs are coming from. I have a picture in my head of all these cages elevated off the floor and filled with hens. Clucking away in distress as they are forced to stay in their small cage…lay eggs and unable to wander around and peck at dirt trying to find bugs to eat. I don’t have any idea how accurate that picture is, but it’s what I envision. They eat