I've checked Google Reader 18 times today.  Will someone PLEASE write a blog.

This is all I've got:

My Thoughts on Eggs & Chickens:
  • When I was growing up, we never bought eggs.  We collected them.  My mom had chickens and Abe, Ty, Ande, and I hated them.  We hated them because we were the ones that took care of them.  We watered them, fed them, and collected their eggs.
  • The bane of caring for chickens is 3 fold:
    • Chicken poop on your shoes.  It's sticky and watery and doesn't come off by merely dragging your feet across the lawn.  You need a stick and a garden hose.  It's also impossible to go into a chicken coop and come out with clean shoes.  The chickens lay booby-traps.
    • Breathing in chicken infested air.  My mom's chickens have always lived in an old shed turned coop.  The chickens go in their coop, scratch the dirt and stir up dust.  The light that does make it into their coop shows all the dirt, germs, and dried poop floating in the air.  I used to hold my breath when I went in.  Now, when I go out with my mom to take care of them.  I stay outside the coop.  Even if you don't touch anything, you come out of there feeling dirty.
    • The Rooster.  I once saw our rooster chase Ande across the whole lawn.  I was in the house when suddenly I heard a BLOOD-CURDLING scream.  I looked out the front window and saw Ande not running, but sprinting for the garage door and screaming the whole way.  Ten feet behind her was the rooster charging at full speed.  He had his head pointed straight forward and looked like an arrow.  He had K-I-L-L written all over his face.  That's why there's sometimes a pitchfork by the chicken coop door.  If you go in unarmed, they will attack.
  • Our neighbor has a chicken (just one).  A few months ago I saw her out working in her flower bed.  The chicken was standing right beside her, and our neighbor was feeding it bugs and weeds she found in her flower bed.  It made me romanticize and even want chickens.
  • Martha Stewart has her own chickens and she LOVES it when guests that come on her show mention how WONDERFUL her eggs look.  Once, a cooking guest on Martha's show commented on how fresh the eggs looked.  Martha responded with something like, "Of course they do.  IIIIIII got these from myyyyyyy chickens."
  • I learned this year that you should always visually check your eggs in their carton before you buy them. I saw an old lady picking all the best eggs out of the different cartons and putting them in her carton, putting all the bad ones in another carton.
  • I've also learned that if you see a carton sitting all by itself on the egg shelf at the grocery store, that doesn't mean that it's a carton of bad eggs.  Sometimes they're just unique eggs.  I found this one at Costco two weeks ago.


The special egg nobody wanted

  • And last, my mom's chickens are racist.  Or at least, they aren't color blind.
I like that rooster.  He's the most beautiful rooster I've ever seen and he's... CHICKEN.

Comments

Ohhhhhh, I'm trying my best to think of a pun for this post. It just DESERVES one. Alas. I'm fresh out of puns.

I knew there was a speck of chicken loving in you when you were a little girl. I knew it would come out when you were an adult. I just knew it. This post PROVES it.

Special egg indeed. Did you blow it so you could keep it?
Hey, I remember something you forgot. Remember when you put those two chicken eggs up in your light plate and then left your light on 24 hours for several days seeing if you could get them to hatch?

You were determined. Nothing happened, but it wasn't because you weren't willing to sleep with the light on.
Grace said…
I actually told Dad today that I was too scared to go out and collect eggs. I said maybe I could get over that fear, and he said he'd take me out and show me how to do it. After reading what you wrote about the rooster chasing Ande, I'm not so sure I'm brave enough anymore.

I will be doing a new post within the next couple days. Love you, Cali!
Donna Chapin said…
Did you check out my blog I updated it Friday night with our Las Vegas adventure.
Love your post about your chicken memories. I remember my Gret Grandmas chicken house not only housed chicken and collecting eggs, but it seemed I would get bitten by fleas.
laska said…
Cali, I just found out that you went to nursing school with one of the gals I work with - Rebecca Cole. She says hi.
Tracy said…
I love reading your blogs Cali! You're so funny! :)

Mom and I want chickens - Dad keeps saying no because he says he's not taking care of them! After reading your post, I'm fairly certain I don't want to take care of them either!
Deidra said…
I felt the same way about my dad's chickens growing up (though the geese and turkeys were WAY meaner than the hens). I can't wait to have a yard with enough space for my own coop now-- funny to me how it's become such a trendy and fashionable thing to do. Thankfully Dad still keeps me fully stocked with eggs because I'm dumb when it comes to buying eggs at the store (I never remember to check them).
Like Mom I wish I had a great pun. All I could think while reading your post though was, "Man I hate chickens."
Ande said…
That was really from me. Tricky blogspot.
Julie said…
We too had chickens when I was little. I thought only we had a mean rooster. Our rooster never attacked Jen, just me. My theory is that little blonde girls wear pink and green but little brunette girls look great in red and roosters just love to chase and attack red! To this day I am petrified of birds (seagulls, pidgeons, canaries, you name it) because of our stupid rooster. I do love fresh eggs though. I would be willing to make up the food, buy whatever supplies we needed, etc. but maybe knowing the scars it causes I just couldn't subject my kids to the rest of chicken ownership!
Rachel said…
Oh! I hate chickens with a passion! I remember those days! One day Mom asked me to go "water" the chickens. "Oh," I thought, "I'll 'water' those devils."
Unfortunately I got caught spraying water into the coup with the hose. One could argue, I was aiming at the water troughs, but let's face it. The chickens were soaked. BUSTED!
Mama Tales said…
And to think I entertained the idea of having a chicken coop. What was I thinking?
Laurie Bingham said…
I can't help but think of all the chickens in Hawaii while walking to campus...and the cats...and the dogs. Also, you don't need a passport to come and visit me:) Where are you guys planning to travel to? I already know I'll be jealous.

Lesley just found me on facebook, that is so crazy! She said that she ate dinner at your house on Sunday. Jealous! I would LOVE to eat Sunday dinner at your house someday...hopefully soon?!

luv large
Samantha said…
What a CRAZY coincidence that you randomly wrote about chickens on the day you did. Just the night before I was saying how I wanted chickens and what's great about them and Kyle was telling me I was crazy. Hahah. I DIDN'T show him this post. Just in case I decide to really push it eventually.

(We had chickens before we left to Peru, which is why I remember it being easier than you did. I was only 5 and probably didn't have to do much!)
Anonymous said…
OK Cali, this just proves my theory that we can try to be different from our parents but we all eventually end up just like them. Of course you'll raise chickens. And a vegetable garden, and you already write a blog, and you'll be a creative teacher to your children, and you'll probably even teach Seminary. Don't fight it. Be glad you have Jane for a momma.

Love,
BRENDA

PS Emily grows a garden and wants chickens, too. Another lucky girl!