by Heather C.
One of my goals for this month's challenge was to find a source of local eggs. I live in an area where local eggs does not necessarily mean humanely raised chickens. I'm amending my goal to say that I want to find a source of eggs from free-ranging happy pet chickens preferably belonging to a lady in a gingham dress.
Driving around I've seen small signs in front yards advertising eggs for sale. I wanted to find my eggs in an area that I normally drive through so I don't need to make special trips. How hard could that be? You see Eggs For Sale signs all the time around here.
Now I know that Eggs For Sale signs are a bit like the Loch Ness Monster. The only people who see it are the ones who aren't looking.
Day 1
I started out scanning the road for signs as I drove north to the city where I usually shop. Even the main roads in my area are fairly rural. There are plenty of old farmhouses that would be perfectly accompanied by a small chicken coop. But no such luck. I'm not discouraged yet. I just started looking after all.
I look as I drive south to another city to work in the afternoon. No eggs for sale. Ok. No problem. I have a plan. I'll come home on an alternate road that is slightly more rural. Unfortunately this also yields no eggs.
At the end of Day 1 I have spotted many political ad signs for the primary this week, many houses for sale, and numerous signs for hay, straw, and firewood. I even know where to go to buy a goat. But no eggs.
I mention my quest at dinner to the husband. He asks why we don't have chickens. I slowly ask the ex-city boy if he wants chickens. He says, "You'll take care of them, right? We stick them in barn and make little runs for them and how do you take care of chickens anyway?" I know that if I had chickens they'd have some kind of Taj Mahal mobile coop to move around and graze and I'd go into mourning anytime one was eaten by predators. It is hard enough to get babysitters for horses. I'm not sure about chicken babysitters. I don't know that we are cut out for chickens.
Day 2
I start out again with high hopes. This time I drive west to vote and then southwest to a tack store in yet another town. I'm not seeing any signs and I'm starting to compose posts in my head...
Day 5
Supplies are running low on the expedition. I'm out of Twizzlers in the car and don't know how much longer I can hold on...
I'm also starting to mutter at chicken-free houses. "What do you people have against chickens, anyway?" I'm going 65 down a main road when I spot it.
I'm not sure if this is an active sign. It is almost covered by weeds but I turn around and congratulate myself on finding something 5 minutes from home. I drive up to the house and give myself a pep talk to work around my shyness. Then I start to worry about what I'll say if they ask why I was looking for eggs. "Um, actually I'm driving around the countryside looking for egg signs. I write for this blog you see. Can I take a picture of your sign to put on the internet?" I hope they don't have a gun.
No worries though since they aren't home.
I head down to the tack store and lo and behold find another sign.
Here I find a farm worker (not the owner in a gingham dress) and she shows me where to find the refrigerator full of eggs. She explains that there is a plastic cup with change in it so the whole operation is usually self-serve once you know what to do. She mentions that the kids sometimes put broken eggs in the cartons so I should check. Kids gathering eggs sounds fairly anti-factory farm but I can't see any chickens outside. The shyness acts up though and I don't ask about the chicken lifestyles. She says that she used to keep chickens at her house until something ate them. She still misses them. (I knew I wasn't cut out for chicken raising.)
So goal 1 for the challenge is partially accomplished. I'm going to go back to the more convenient first farm in the evening to see what they have. I'd rather buy from a family flock than a slightly larger farm like the second one.
