every day is a good day
If you want to make 46 omelettes using 3 eggs per omelette, this is how many eggs you need. These are the eggs I delivered by bicycle to Tweets Café this afternoon, so they will be able to make quite a few egg dishes this weekend using eggs from the likes of Coulette, and Svenda, and Hazel, and Tangerine.
Guarding a flock of chickens is hard work for our two dogs. It requires hours laying perfectly still, soaking up the warm sunshine. With one ear to the ground, and the other facing the sky, they can hear the soft footsteps of approaching coyotes as well as the wind rustling through the wing feathers of hawks soaring high in the sky. They’d rather be out chasing deer in the woods and hunting for rabbits, but they are duty bound to stay near the chickens, patiently listening for any danger. It’s hard work, but someone has to do it.
Certified organic doesn’t mean that chickens get to spend afternoons fishing for bugs and frogs in streams. It doesn’t mean that hens get to lay eggs in quiet nests all to themselves. It certainly doesn’t mean that mothers get to spend months raising their chicks to be well behaved chickens.
This is how most certified organic chickens live, by the tens of thousands in hen houses. They don’t get to spend all day out in the sun or fog or rain, never get to hunt for frogs in streams, never get to cozy up to their mothers, and certainly never get to flirt with a randy rooster.
Spring continues to unfold. More crocuses have popped out of the ground. While looking for more signs of spring, I came across my hat I left out all night. It glistens with morning dew.
The chickens are having a field day. I’m trimming some cedars next to the house, and the chickens are fascinated with the piles of cedar branches. Something new happens, and they flock around to investigate. They never miss a thing. They should be reporters.
The day may have started with a dusting of frost on the solar panels, but the bright sun quickly melted the frost and made everything dazzle. King Richard struts his best when the sun sets his cape ablaze. He glows so brightly, few hens can resist him.
The sun is bringing the plums into bloom. Chickens love eating plum and cherry blossoms so much, I’m surprised they don’t hop into the trees to eat them. Fortunately, they wait for them to fall before they gorge on them.
