StevenLaura

Shortly after New Year, our family resolved to stop supporting factory farming practices. This meant, until we could find a reliable source of animal bi products, we would choose to forgo those bi products. So, if you’re reading between the lines, yes, we went vegan. And we are/were fairly successful at it, too. But, I kept my feelers out for good sources of eggs -- you know, for a special “treat.” Several students in my department are actively working out ethical eating / creation care / take your pick of terms. I asked one of them where she got her eggs. From her friend’s mom who gets them out of their back yard, where the hens are treated well, she responded. “They even all have names. I gathered eggs myself last time I was there. ” “Next time your friend brings some for you, I’ll buy a dozen off of you,” I promptly responded.

That was three weeks ago. Three days ago, around the break table at work I discovered that one of my co-worker’s (R-’s) sons raises his own chickens. “Hey, next time you get a chance, bring me a dozen.” (Only $2, a good deal.)

Then yesterday I got sick. I felt icky. And I really really wanted an “Egg McMullen.” It had been around two months since I’d eaten an egg. But it seemed like just the right comfort food. Fried up fresh and put on a lightly toasted, lightly buttered English muffin… mmm… And, even though we’d agreed to go local on eggs, I couldn’t help myself, I went to the store and bought myself the friendliest, happiest, tastiest looking egg I could find. Lots of labels on the package like “vegetarian fed free range” and such made me feel more secure in my dubious decision to buy for my comfort food breakfast.

This morning I was greeted by one of my department’s students. “Hey. I’m glad you’re feeling better. I have eggs for you. They’re in the fridge… I got them for free, so they don’t cost you anything.”

Later I went downstairs, to the break room area. “Did you see? R- brought you some eggs. They’re in the break room fridge.”

Oh goody. So, one dozen at home, one dozen in the downstairs fridge, and one dozen in the upstairs fridge? Nope. It’s better than that. The student, generous soul, brought me two dozen farm-fresh eggs. FOUR DOZEN EGGS!!! I don’t have a CLUE what I’m going to do with so many eggs. My high-cholesterol suggests that I not eat them all in a week. Perhaps I’ll have S eat them “every morning to help (him) get large.” Then someday he’ll be “roughly the size of a barge” (which means we’ll need a bigger house).

I wish I could say I was thrusting my vegan robe off with great gusto and rushing to the feast. But I still feel icky. And thus the idea of 4 dozen eggs doesn’t sit well.

What happened to “eggs as a special treat”? I am glad Easter is right around the corner. Egg-decorating, here we come!

P.S. Anyone want some locally-grown eggs from ethically-treated chickens?