Before the sun climbs over the treetops, Lucky is in her nest, getting ready to lay an egg.
Before the sun climbs over the treetops, the tulips huddle in the morning cold.
Before the sun climbs over the treetops, the fruiting cherry blossoms wait their first bee.
Before the sun climbs over the treetops, chickens leave their footprints on a frosty bridge.
Before the sun climbs over the treetops, grosbeaks gather at the bird feeder.
Before the sun climbs over the treetops, wakeup.
It’s Friday, time to take eggs to Slough Food in Edison. This week one of the cartons is extra special. It’s a carton of single source eggs. This may be the only carton of single source eggs sold anywhere in the country, maybe even the whole world this week.
The eggs in this carton are all laid by Lucky. The past few weeks she has been faithfully laying eggs early in the morning in one of the nests in the woodshed. I’ve been checking every morning between eight and nine to gather her eggs so I could make a carton of just her eggs.
One lucky customer will be buying this carton this week. Maybe they’ll make a single source omelette or single source soufflé. Lucky raised a brood of chicks last fall. The picture below is from September 20, when her chicks were five days old. When I’m weeding in the garden, she is the first hen who will come to lend her claws. She’s really after the worms I dig up, but a little scratching here and there doesn’t hurt.
It’s not the disaster it sounds like. The “skunk” in question is one of the new chicks. It’s striped like a skunk. I’m tempted to call it Skunky, however, as its feathers come in, the stripes will disappear. The colors and patterns on baby chicks often change dramatically as they grow up.
The black stripe streaking out of its eye makes an impression. When it’s outside, this chick is easy to spot.
It’s the end of the word burning season. This may be the last load of firewood we bring in for this season. The warmth of a wood fire is so comforting, there is always a bit of sadness when the wood burning season comes to a close.
But it’s also the beginning of fresh, garden herbs. Today, the lovage is large enough to pick a stem for supper’s soup. Last year, this lovage plant towered seven feet tall. It’s leaves will flavor many dishes this year. One lovage plant will feed a household through spring and summer.