Let me back up a minute and give you some back story. Back in NY, I bought raw milk and soy free eggs from free range chickens from a farm in PA. They dropped off weekly to places on Long Island and i picked up an order every other week. It was the best milk and the most delicious eggs ever. I did my research before leaving and located a few farms where I could buy a cow share and get milk here. I also looked into a few places where I could get eggs.
Apparently there are quite a few people who sell eggs because a lot of people have chickens. My sister in law Montica told Scott that she's seen people up in Crawfordsville that sell them. They put little signs in front of their houses to let you know 'we've got eggs for sale.' So, when I saw the little sign at the end of a driveway in Russellville, I was intrigued. Eggs right in town! How convenient!
But (there's always a but, right?) every time I passed by, I just couldn't stop. It was a bit of a messy yard and there was a dude always hanging out near or in the garage. It was just weird. So, I'd look at the little sign and drive on by.
What planet I woke up on today, I have no idea.
It's dinner time and I realize that I used my last three eggs in the cake we made earlier in the day. And I need an egg. I could use some milk for the chicken strips but an egg works a lot better. Its still three days until I go to the farm I hooked up with for raw milk and eggs and its not like I'm near a store to just run in.
Here was the thought that got me into the car to go to the little house in town:
"Stop being so judgmental. Just go get some eggs! How can someone screw up eggs?"
It's not that eggs can be 'screwed up' but they can be .... less than fresh.
I get there and the guy (who maybe is the same guy who likes to hang around the garage) is just getting home from work.
"Hi," I said. "Do you have any eggs today?"
"Eggs?"
"Yes, do you have any today?"
He's looking at me silently, and I just pointed at the sign at the end of the driveway. He tells me that he'll go check, and the boys and I wait. They discuss the possibly stray cats going through the basement window of a vacant house and soon the guy comes back with a dozen in hand.
"Here you go. You might want to check these. I don't know how old they are. My wife normally does this."
Yea.
I just stood there nodding my head. He doesn't know how old they are.
He doesn't know how old they are!!
I'm sorry, but how do you give someone eggs and tell them that you don't know how old they are? To 'check them'. I mean, thanks for the heads up, bro... but how do I check them? Crack them open and see if they smell rancid?
I just took the eggs from this poor guy with barely a tooth in his head and drove home knowing that these eggs weren't even coming in the house. The carton was smelly, one egg had been broken and it looked like it had been that way for a while.
I understand you might have to wash an egg after you take it out of the chicken coup, but should they have white fungus growing on them!?
I don't think my leeriness of that place was me being judgmental. It was something else called ... Intuition.
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