My thoughts on the egg.

Eggs. 

Ever think about them?

I bet not. 

What is there to think about, after all?  You go to the store, you buy a carton of eggs for a couple of bucks, and you take home your nice, white, sterile, presorted, sort-of-tasting-like-eggs eggs.

I know I never thought about it.  Bring home the eggs, and use them.  Bake with them, cook with them, eat them scrambled or fried.  Always the eggs were the same.  White and yellow on the inside.

Did you know that eggs aren't really yellow on the inside in a chicken that's been well cared for?  They're ORANGE.  "Holy shit, look at that color" orange.

I didn't know that. 

Did you know that eggs' shells come in many different colors and they all come in different sizes?  You probably did. 

Purty, huh?  They're even prettier in person.

They also come in different shapes and sizes and sometimes have double yolks.  Actually, we have one girl who only lays double yolks.  It's a bonus.

Having had chickens to care for has made me appreciate them a whole lot more.  Not only are they damned entertaining (no, I'm not afraid to admit that I find chickens entertaining), they are an animal that gives something back to you for your care of them.  I feed them and make sure they are safe and healthy, and they produce wonderful things for us to eat and enjoy.

You know another odd side effect of having laying chickens?  You (meaning me, here) become acutely aware of what it "costs" the chicken to give you those eggs.  And you start to think about how you never thought about eggs before.  I know that I put the carton of sterile white eggs in my cart for years without a thought.  Eggs were eggs.  But they're not, you know.  Those eggs come from chickens who are kept in battery cages, debeaked because they get cannibalistic from not being able to move around, exposed to light 24/7 to get them to lay.  Crappy life.  They burn out quick.  They're not called battery chickens for nothing. 

I never thought about it.  But now I do.  And now I can appreciate the eggs these girls give me just that much more. 

(Blogger wanted to put this picture in sideways.  Who am I to argue?)

So, you want to taste a real egg?  You know where I live.  I'll save you a dozen, and you can come and meet the girls who give you the food you eat.  Maybe throw them a handful of cracked corn as a thank you.  They'll appreciate it, and you'll never look at eggs the same way again, I guarantee!