These are the chickens that lay my eggs. Well, my eggs and other folks' eggs - I don't eat all of the eggs and they're not my chickens. They are Sophie and Craig's chickens - a local farm.
On Saturday when I arrived 15 minutes after the market opened there were no more eggs to be had. They were sold out. Why!?
The thing about chickens is that they don't consistently lay eggs at the same rate every single day of the year. Apparently in the winter, their egg production slows down. Which means there are not as many eggs to go around. I just learned that this past weekend.
Who knew!? Aside from Sophie and Craig, of course.
Sure, I could have gone to the grocery store and bought some eggs that came from - well, who really knows where they came from or how long they'd been sitting there. But I didn't do that.
I know these chickens. I know the farmers who raise these chickens and the children who play with them. These are nice clean healthy chickens and they eat good organic food and get to run around outside all day - if they want to - or stay inside all day - if they want to.
Besides, they're really pretty chickens and their eggs come is all sorts of colors. Opening up a carton of their eggs is having Easter all year long.
Their eggs make me happy.
I feel like the father in 'A Christmas Story' whose Thanksgiving turkey was eaten by the neighbors dogs. No breakfast omelets, no pumpkin bread, no cakes, no meatloaf, no egg salad sandwiches!
I plan to be 5 minutes early this Saturday.