Yikes! Yolk? Yuck!

Mar 31, 2019 | 0 comments

Five In The Next Box

It probably happens to the best of us chicken tenders.  Certainly, it has happened to Farmer Nyel.  More than once.  And, yesterday, as a Substitute Chicken Farmer, it happened to me.  Yuck!

It all has to do with due diligence.  For us, the evening chicken routine includes egg gathering as well as making sure the girls and boys are all in their kiss-and-lie-down mode – the chicken translation being, on their roosts and settling down for sleep.  Sometimes we carry bottles of water to replenish their supply; sometimes we also take a bucket of poultry food to add to their feeder in the coop.  And, even if our arms are laden, always we gather the eggs.

Depending on how many eggs the ladies have left for us during the day, and further depending on how many buckets and bottles we might be toting, we sometimes have to put a few of the eggs in our pockets.  Our eggs have fine, sturdy shells thanks to the crushed oyster shell we mix in with the chicken feed, so the pocket carrying method is perfect safe.  Usually.

Oh no!

Once in a while, however, the famer has a bit of a distraction twixt coop and fridge.  Perhaps the phone is ringing or the timer on the oven is dinging or the farmer’s brain is on a temporary leave of absence.  Best case scenario:  the egg is discovered early the next morning, none the worse for wear.  Worst case scenario, you are patting your pockets to find something else and suddenly something cold and wet and slightly viscus is running down your leg!  I have watched that happen to Farmer Nyel more than once.  All you can do is laugh, lament, and clean up!

Last night it was my turn.  I put on my friendly old field jacket – the one specifically designated for outdoor duty – and reached in my right-hand pocket for my gloves.  YUCK!  The gloves were there, sort of stuck to the jacket and to broken eggshells and surrounded by (no – more like swimming in) raw egg.  Eeeeeuuuw!

Freshly Washed – Until Next Time!

Then, of course, I remembered that we’d had a full house, egg-wise, the night before.  Five eggs—one from each of our hens.  Four filled my left pocket (all of which made it into an egg box and into the refrigerator) and the one that wouldn’t fit went in my right pocket.  I’m not sure how it got forgotten or broken – probably I was feeling hurried and was overly vigorous in hanging up said jacket.

So, I dumped the whole mess in the washing machine and was clever enough to put the water temperature on “cold.”  No cooked egg in my jacket, thank you.  All turned out well – even the gloves.  Only a few eggshells and some Kleenex bits to deal with at the bottom of the washer.  The jacket was dry in time for my morning coop duties and this time around no eggs went in the pockets, you betcha!

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