You all know I want chickens, right? And you know the hubster refuses to let me have chickens, right? Which means my chickens have to wait for my next life, right? Along with my own milk cow, right?
Well… I found this free range chicken ranch just a couple miles from where we hike and the woman who lives there lets you come collect your own eggs. They have like hundreds of chickens – all kinds. Little black and white ones that can fly. Big fat red-brown ones. Gray ones. Black ones. Grey and white ones. Ones with fluffy snow shoes on their feet.
$10 for 30 eggs. Fun AND a bargain.
So my son asked if I was making breakfast for, are you listening Penny Watson? A bunch of lumberjacks. Nah, just us.
Now I have to go back to the kitchen and use the eggs to bake some pumpkin ginger bread with cream cheese icing.