The Things I Do for Eggs

If only it were as easy as going to the store and doling out three bucks for a carton of eggs. Or even just gathering the eggs my own chickens lay in nesting boxes. But no, that would be too simple. Instead, I run the Egg Obstacle Course every day.

The first egg is the one I do actually find in the nesting box in the coop, which is nice. Except to get to the coop I have to either climb over a gate that the sheep have broken and so it has been rendered immovable by the pallets used to shore it up, or I have to pull down the enormous piece of plywood that is serving as a makeshift gate at the other opening. That plywood is really, really heavy. Suck.

So that's egg number one.

Next stop is the dog pen, where one of the hens likes to go all the way back into one of the dogs' little cubicles to lay her egg in the straw there. So I have to crawl into the cubicle to fetch the egg, often whacking my head on the wooden roof and usually staining the knees of my jeans with mud and sometimes the black walnuts that fall in there.

Egg number two.

The third egg is laid behind the dog pen. To get to that one I just have to step over the lawn tractor parked in the shed. And be faster than the dogs, who have free access to that nest, as well.

We're up to three eggs.

Next I'll check the nest under the forsythia hedge, also vulnerable to dog thievery. To get to the nest in there that's right next to the fence enclosing the ram pasture, I have to either crawl under the forsythia hedge about four feet, which is a scratchy, messy endeavor that is also no good for the knees of my pants, or pull down that awkward plywood again, go into the ram pasture, climb over the scrap wood that's accumulated by the fence, step over the electric wire that runs right next to the fence on that side and balance that way straddling the electric wire while I lean down and reach my hand through to grab the egg on the other side of the wire fence.

I haven't electrocuted myself yet in my quest for egg number four, but I'm waiting for it.

Continuing on to the hay barn, where one hen has made her nest way at the top in the back. To get to that one I have to heave myself up four layers of hay bales, helpfully arranged like really, really high steps, and then step over the center beam and climb around until I get to the place where the hen has burrowed into the hay. Sometimes she's still up there when I check, so I have to do it again later when I think she might be done.

Five eggs now, and onto number six. And sometimes seven.

After climbing down from the hay barn, I go through the garden and around to the livestock gate to the paddock. Rather than unchain it every time, I just climb over it and wade through the disgusting mess of sheep shit and mud to get to the other side of the hay barn, where two hens have been laying. I don't have to climb up the hay to get those eggs, but sometimes there's only one when I check, so I have to check again later for the other one.

And after all that, if I beat the dogs to the punch, I get my seven eggs a day.

Makes you appreciate an omelet a whole lot more, I'll tell you that.