Farm Fresh Eggs

When my mom was visiting recently she was very impressed with the eggs we have. We get ours from some people we know who raise organic beef and have a few laying hens. The yolks in these eggs are orange not yellow(this picture does not do them justice) and they really do taste great. During my mother's stay she kept trying to figure out how she could bring some home with her on the plane. I finally convinced her that this was not a good idea. My mom has always been very pro-eggs. Even during the years when people said that eggs were bad my mother said they were healthy. I, also, believe that eggs are one of nature's most perfect foods. And my mother has always said that to find good nutrition you should follow the color. Meaning nature will show you what is the most nutritious by giving it an appealing color. So we strongly believe that to get the most out of eating an egg you need to eat the yolk because that is where the color is. Science seems to be bearing this out.

Growing up we always kept chickens for eggs. And I have to admit to not really loving chickens themselves but I do enjoy eggs. In fact, my family would be shocked to know recently I contemplated whether or not I would want to keep some hens for eggs. But because I don't like dealing with chickens the answer so far is no.

This is a poem about the fig tree in our backyard when I was growing up but it talks about chickens so I am including it. Growing up we had lots of fruit trees including about 3 different types of plums, a peach tree, a guava bush, a pear, a couple of apples and last, but definitely not least, a fig tree. Also we had a banana tree but it was just an ornamental one.

figs

You are my first child
and I see you under the shade of the fig
chasing chickens.
You bend over,
hands low to the ground
just about chicken width apart.
The chicken is not too threatened by you
but avoids your hands,
pecking at fallen figs.

Later you will see what is above you
and pull the big flat leaves
from their rubbery branches.
Your hands will be sticky
with the milky blood
and you will be a seamstress
your only fabric green and furry.
And your dolls will be clothed with Eden’s best.

You will walk quietly up to the tree
in the summers of the future
and you will pull firmly but fearfully on your choice fig.
As you release the fig from its branch
you arouse and scatter a million iridescent beetles.
they are loud and frightening and beautiful.

When you are yet older
you will realize that you are bigger than a scarab
and you will want to play with them.
You will spend the quiet of a whole afternoon
trying to catch one and tie a leash about his body
and you will name him.

For years you will forget the fig
and the safety of the backyard
but later when you are me
you will stand on the blue porch
and watch your daughter chase chickens
under the fig tree.