I would love to sit down with Barack Obama's grandmother from Kenya and swap chicken stories. All backyard chicken-keepers have tales to tell. Some of them are heartwarming, some sad, but all are just amazing to me. I have found that chickens are smart, funny, brave and can be extremely loyal to their flock mates. The flock I have right now are the result of a miracle the way I see it. I have told their story here in my blog in the archived posts, so I won't re-tell it here.
Out of the nine that hatched last May, five are pullets and started laying eggs in November at six months old. The young pullets and cockerels will officially become hens and roosters around the middle of next month.
My chickens are mutts with mainly Silver Sebright blood, so they are quite small, but they lay a good sized egg which can be compared to grocery store small. To me the eggs are just gorgeous, almost too pretty to eat. Various shades of cream and beige, some more pointed, some more round. When cracked into a bowl, the yokes are bright orange and stand at attention, no faded lazy yokes here. I have to admit, I don't notice a whole lot of difference in taste from store bought eggs, but then I put catsup on my scrambled eggs and pickles on my egg sandwiches.
Labels: chickens, eggs, grandma, obama