We are chicken sitting.
A neighbor down the street is away for a couple of weeks, and since we never go anywhere, we are taking care of her chickens. This means fresh eggs for us!
Confession? I inwardly groan every morning when it's time to go "do the chickens." I described the whole thing to a friend like this: "Yet another thing I should not have said: 'Sure! That sounds fun!' to."
Little T is thoroughly enjoying it though.
Will this exposure to local chickens just complicate my life? Am I going to be dealing with Pleasemommypleasemommypleasemommycanwehaveourownchickenspleasemommypleeeeeeeese?
Oh dear. I hope not. I'm not quite ready to walk my local food talk in that particular way.
But oh-so-yummy were the fried eggs we had for breakfast!
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