How You Like Them Eggs?

For the past year now I have been getting eggs from a friend at the club. She lives in an area that has maintained their zone rights to having livestock - while being surrounded by huge, overpriced, but incredible homes. Normally the eggs I get are the brown variety and normal sizes, but this batch offered some blue, grey, and some odd shaped ones (look at that one in the front!). Do you know how long it takes an egg to get to Alaska? From the moment the egg is taken from the hatch it takes about 6 weeks (unconfirmed) and who knows what the hens were nibbling on prior to laying the eggs. These little gems are hand picked from the hen house and delivered to me that day and they make the most fluffy, light, delicious scrambled eggs - You can tell the difference.

History Time: Once when visiting the family farm, Grandpa Angus took me to the hen house for a lesson on how to fetch eggs. He and I had our little baskets and as he was telling me the reason for these hens existence on the farm (providing eggs) he just jammed his hand under the resting hen and came out with the 2 eggs that she had been nurturing. The hen did not seem to mind and just readjusted her position, but I could not help noticing a look of resentment on her face. "He just took my babies" was what I interpreted. So the next day I was sent out to get some - by myself. I entered the coop, looked around and went to the one hen that did not look too mean. First I tried to move the hen, but she would not budge, so I had to go under her. Yikes. My hand gingerly approached the belly and then the wonderful creature started to fiercely, and I mean in a really angry way peck my hand until I backed away. I went back into the house with an empty basket and turned around to hear Grandpa Angus shake his head and say "city kid."

This may have been the same trip that the Thanksgiving turkey chased my all of 2.5ft tall body around in circles. (Okay, now that I think of it, I may have been alittle taller, but when a monster like that is awkwardly waddling/running behind you saying gobble, gobble, gobble and all you think is in turkey language that is kill,kill,kill you tend to feel really small) I am screaming for my life and my parents are just laughing. That dangly thing on the turkey was right at eye level and it was going to kill me if I stopped running - I was sure of it. I don't remember how I survived, I may have blacked out, but I do remember enjoying every bite of that turkey.

Wouldn't you run if this thing was after you?

Such good times on the family farm

Gobble, Gobble, Gobble

or kill, kill kill (however you say it)