Eggs, Eggs Everywhere!

Growing up on a farm as a child afforded many wonderful experiences.  Meaningful experiences that shaped my values and inspired me.  I remember when I was about 6 or 7 years old, my dad decided that it would be nice to have fresh milk and eggs.  So, he bought a Holstein cow named Bessie and ordered chicks.  I remember sitting in our living room early in the morning before school with an old towel on my lap, carefully cradling a warm, fuzzy chick in my hands–marveling at its tiny body and feet as well as the soft, little sounds it made.  Every morning over the next 2-3 weeks, I would hurriedly get dressed and eat breakfast so that I could hold one for a few minutes before the school bus came.  I loved those little chicks!

As the chicks grew into hens, they would free range all through the pastures and even around the house; but, for some reason, though, they didn’t like to lay their eggs in the coop.  Much to my surprise and joy, I would walk along outdoors, and just FIND an egg laying out in the yard or under a bush. It was like an Easter egg hunt!  After making the discovery that the hens were laying eggs ALL OVER the place, I remember enthusiastically running into the house and searching for my Easter basket.  “This is going to be fun!,” I thought.  And it was. The hens free-ranged and laid their eggs everywhere:  around the house, in the yard, through the alfalfa fields, and even in my Granddaddy Rieley’s vegetable garden next door.  I would spend the whole afternoon walking around the yard, checking under bushes and looking in the pasture and garden for eggs.  I still remember the sheer thrill and satisfaction when I found one.

Although I was having the best time, my dad didn’t take the same view of the hens’ anti-coop attitude toward egg-laying; or, their free-ranging forays into Granddaddy’s unfenced, vegetable garden, where they left plenty of pecked tomatoes in their wake.  By late fall, my dad had endured enough of these wayward hens and decided that it was time to re-home them.  I tried to talk him out of it, but that didn’t work.  So, I begged to keep “just one.”  But he said, “No, the hen would be lonely and miss the others.”  So, I had to accept that my beloved hens were leaving.  Early one Saturday morning, a neighboring farmer and friend of my dad’s came to collect them.  I stood and watched the truck with my hens ride-off down the driveway; I was heartbroken.  The hens that I had lovingly held as chicks and watched grow into critters that created daily Easter egg hunts for me were gone.

But here’s the thing:  I had enjoyed little time with the hens, but the experience had left a BIG impression, and I was fortunate to have had the opportunity.  Farming is a chance to observe and appreciate the simplicity and beauty of seemingly small things.  The seed that is carefully placed in the soil that quickly becomes a seedling, a plant, and then matures to bring forth a ripe tomato or a hearty zucchini; or, the fragile chick growing into a beautiful hen that one day produces eggs that a little girl finds such joy in collecting.  Not only is there a serenity and satisfaction in the cultivation of a garden or the caring for an animal, but there is almost a daily reminder of the miracle of life.  It was in part due to growing up on a farm as well as my brief encounter with the hens that inspired me to have my own little patch.  A place to raise sheep and chickens, plant a garden, and grow.

 

25 Comments »

  1. Lucky little girl to have real chicks … I would have LOVED that! I really enjoyed reading about your experience as a young girl with the hens and cow and seeing the pic of you and Bessie. 😊

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    • Thank you! I feel very fortunate. The older I get, I realize how lucky I was to grow up in the country on a farm with animals, fresh vegetables right out of the garden, and living next door to my grandparents. I reflect on memories of my grandmother picking flowers from her garden to make a bouquet for me to take to my 2nd grade teacher, and I am grateful to have grown up in such a simple yet meaningful way. I will always be grateful. 🙂

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  2. As usual, very very nice and full of reflections for all of us to remember the good things in our childhoods. Years ago, while in therapy, the “push” was to “find” again that child we once were. I didn’t really understand the importance for many years to come. Your writing today reminded me of that. It is that child of years ago who is truly the person we were and are meant to be. To find that child again is a wonderful thing. When I finally understood why I was working so hard to find the child again, I found a picture of myself when I was 4 and framed it and put it in my kitchen window. I look at it everyday and say…that is who I really am. It is comforting and I always smile. On a different note…Fred has already started the book and is enjoying it. Thanks for sharing with him….it was lovely all being together the other night and laughing and talking…even though Fred did have a “moment” when telling his hamburger story??? Where in the world did that come from??? Enjoy your week….we will miss not being at the Saturday affair…

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    • Thank you, Lynn! I think you’re right–connecting to your true self enables you to live an authentic life. I’m happy Fred likes the book. We had a wonderful time, too. No worries…he’s an associative thinking ( and, so am I). It all made sense in the end!! 😉

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  3. What a wonderful childhood story…you were so fortunate and your fortune is still growing daily. I so enjoy your post…it makes the world seem beautiful!!

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  4. To appreciate the beauty and simplicity yes. Also, the value of patient nurturing which it seems you definitely picked up! This reminded me of Enid Blyton books: Willow Tree Farms 🙂 Bessie was there too!

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    • Thanks for stopping by, Prajakta! Patient nurturing is definitely a part of farming, and one I really enjoy. You’re right; there are a few parallels between the Willow Tree Farm books and this post. Thanks for sharing! 🙂

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  5. How lovely. That must have been such a wonderful experience for a little girl, going round collecting eggs in all sorts of weird and wonderful places. Precious memories indeed. Thanks so much for sharing 🙂

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  6. It sounds really nice to have grown up on a farm. When I lived in Switzerland I stayed on a ffarm. There were only cows and every morning I’d have a warm glass of hot chocolate with fresh milk. During winter times it was marvellous.

    Your pictures are very beautiful! Your writing is also on point!

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