We have been having a hard time in the egg department. The chickens are laying beautiful ones... problem is we have some brooders that keep stealing them and kicking out the ones they have been sitting on forever. If the stupid chickens would stop laying on top of the brooders this problem would probably be solved.
The other problem is that I am completely terrified of Mr. Orpington. Even though I am like six times the size of him (or a tad bit more)... well he is just a really scary organism that I don't like by me without a nice cage separating us. It has proven to be very difficult to hold a broom (to hit him with every time he looks at me) and collect eggs at the same time! The egg collecting has suffered because of this. It doesn't help that I have dozens and dozens of eggs in my fridge so I really don't even have a place for the new ones they are laying. Note to self: eat more eggs!
ANYWAY... the kids have been collecting eggs... because I am ok sacrificing them to Mr. Orpington. They need some real excitement every once in a while. They spend way too much time sitting on their bottoms playing gaming systems. Mr. Orpington only attacks them on his bad days anyway... so they are mostly safe... The problem isn't that the kids are crappy egg collectors, uh-hem, but since I can only sporadically get them to go out and collect them we are getting a lot of bad eggs. I do what my mom always did and crack eggs into a bowl one at a time before using them. Nate isn't as smart. He likes to crack them straight into hot pans. He does have a point that he thinks he should be able to... but he hasn't killed Mr. Orpington yet so a little bit of it is his fault.
To GET ON WITH THE STORY (gosh I am bad at this)...We found out the hard way this afternoon that frying a bad egg is way worse than just cracking one. About twenty minutes before my expected company would be arriving; Nate came into our room and announced he "was done" and that he "couldn't do it anymore". I just stared at him blankly trying to figure out what the heck he was talking about. He could have been talking about anything from picking up a marble off the floor to being done with our marriage. Did he really expect me to know exactly what he was talking about? Note to self: stop telling Nate you are done with things if you don't like him telling you he is done with things.
After a minute of me just staring at him blankly waiting for the "scoop", he announced that he had cracked a rotten egg into a frying pan and that he couldn't clean it up because it was making him gag and he really, really disliked that. Therefore I got to go and clean it up and gag instead. If you think a rotten egg smells bad... try cooking it and see what happens... or just believe me when I tell you it is pretty dog gone disgusting and the smell last longer than you would ever want it too.... Which by the way is longer than twenty minutes... so my visiting teachers got to come over and visit me with my house smelling like rotten egg mixed with Febreeze. Note to self: stop buying Febreeze... it never works.
Just to confirm that the house smelt really bad (which the VT's wouldn't admit too), James came walking through the door after fast offerings (while I was sitting on the couch visiting with my vt's) and asked in a very loud voice "What the heck is that disgusting smell?” It was kind of humiliating, I must admit.
So... one for the "stupid things Nate does" list.
1 comment:
Ya know, I keep thinking it would be fun to have chickens, then I hear stories like this, and I'm thankful we don't bcause we can't even go through the dozen eggs we buy at the store before they expire!
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