Jan's Egg Story

Our first house was a very hungry old farmhouse out in the country in southwestern Washington. It was surrounded on three sides by woods and wild blackberries. The house teetered on the edge of a ravine; there was a path, often rain-slick, that led down to the chicken house, which was there when we bought the property.

A few months after we moved there, a bad windstorm left a friend’s chickens without shelter. He had no interest in rebuilding his chicken coop, so he telephoned us to offer them to us. We went over to his place to help him catch them. And so we acquired our first chickens, a few hens and two roosters.  We ordered 18 day-old chicks from the local feed store a few months later, and soon had a productive little flock, with beautiful great-tasting brown eggs to use or give away or occasionally to sell. The chicken house was built with a chicken wire enclosed "veranda" and a roofed house. It was pretty ideal for that climate as the chickens had access to shelter and also sunlight (and insects!).

My routine was to take kitchen scraps down every day in a stainless steel bowl, and give them chicken feed and water. Then I would bring the eggs I collected back to the house in the same bowl.

A couple of days of pouring rain had kept me from going down the hill, and I was ready for work (I worked in an office, and was dressed: skirt, jacket, dress shoes) when I remembered the chickens.

I picked my way gingerly down the hill, only to find that the chickens had outdone themselves. I couldn't fit all the eggs in my bowl, and so I stacked them carefully atop the bowl, leaning back a bit to keep them balanced. As I was leaving, I discovered a few more, tucked them in my skirt pockets, and rearranged my load. I ended up carrying a few eggs in my free hand.

I made my way very slowly back up the slippery hill with my treasures. I found the back door locked, so went all the way around to the front door. I moved in slow motion. Carefully, I opened the screen door, my load teetering. Propping the screen open with my shoulder, I used a couple of fingers to turn the doorknob on the inside door and push it open. I stepped up and inside, and...

I closed the inside door with my hip.

I heard the little "crunch" in my skirt pocket.

© J M-K 2010