Posted by: Shanna Germain | 03/22/2010

Pg. 209: Chicks & Eggs

Strutting chicken prepares for her next set of dance moves: doing the worm.


It’s been a long time since I had chickens in my life. In my youth (the Girl Formerly Known as Cow Milker), we had chickens. Rhode Island Reds and Barred Rocks. (Segue: I always loved the names of chickens, perhaps more than the creatures themselves. And as it turns out, Barred Rocks are also known as Plymouth Rocks, something I never knew until now. Or perhaps I once knew it and it’s been long-forgotten, along with college algebra and the names of the members of Duran Duran. Two Johns, right?).

One of the sounds of spring at my childhood home was the peep-peep-peep of baby chicks. From the bathroom. Where we kept them in a kiddy pool surrounded by heat lamps. Now, my recollection of this might be hazy, since I know that a kiddy pool would not have fit in the bathroom, but still, that’s what I remember. Or maybe the kiddy pool was in the cellar. Which would make more sense, size-wise and in terms of the cats, who probably wanted nothing more than a tender, pre-heated chicken dinner.

Chickens are good birds. (I want to say — I don’t think there are bad birds, per se, but there are definitely some boring birds). I’ve never been much of a bird girl (sorry sis!), but I like chickens. They make this soothing clucking noise, they eat the flying kinds of bugs that would like to dive-bomb my face if left uneaten, they also eat all of the leftover veggies and fruits, they do this awesome little sitting thing when you stand above them that makes them easy to catch and move around, and they lay eggs. Lots of eggs. Four chickens. Four eggs. Per day. Right now, I’m on a mission to give away free eggs to anyone who will have them (or who is unsuspecting and will let me hand them anonymous packages labeled “Fragile.” Also, if you have any egg recipes, I will gladly have them.

Unimpressed Chicken is Unimpressed.


Chickens are mostly smarter than they seem, and probably smarter than humans in general. They go inside at night to sleep, they come running in the morning because you might have food and if you don’t, then you probably brought a swarm of bugs and thus even so you have food, they stand still for the camera (mostly). And they know the joy of laying down in a patch of sun-warmed dirt and getting comfortable. Also, they will find any way out of anything, just for the joy of it, and will return back to their shelter if you offer food, or the promise of food, or just the sound of your own voice, calling them home.

Far and fast (with wings and eggs), s.

Fresh-laid eggs, plus dog disguised as a bear.



  1. Re. egg recipes: Are you looking just for dishes that are all or nearly all egg, or are you possibly also in the market for dishes that involve egginess in the context, for example, of pasta or potatoes?

    • Eggs of any sort are fantastic. I’m not a fan (ack ack cough choke throw up!) of mayo though. So no eggy salad kind of stuffs. Ick.

      All else is welcome! 🙂

  2. RE: Duran Duran. One John, but three Taylors. (My bugaboo is always forget Roger Taylor.) So that would be Simon Le Bon, Nick Rhodes, John Taylor (sigh), Andy Taylor, and Roger Taylor.

    This concludes your Useless Pop Culture Trivia Segment of the day.


    • Hahaha. I should have know that you’d nail that. If I ever write anything about music, I’m coming to you for fact-checking!

  3. S, my neighbor just offered to bring me fresh eggs a couple mornings a week. Awesome. He has four chickens in his backyard. 🙂

    • Coolio! Fresh eggs — and fresh hens — rock!

  4. We have ten laying hens in Costa Rica. They are my favorites. I love the frsh eggs and the cackling conversations are so much fun any time of day. Like being a five year old sitting in a room with four sixty year old great aunts. The conversation is lively. I’ve even taught the dogs to like hard boiled egss since there are som many of them you have to eat them every way imaginable.

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