By Lynda Shadbolt
I really like to eat eggs. I have them for breakfast, lunch or dinner.
I enjoy them poached, scrambled, baked, sunny side up and over-easy. I think eggs are the perfect
food. And they are so good for you.
So full of nutrients and protein which our bodies need.
And I really love farm fresh eggs. They just taste so delicious.
I love eating food that I know is coming from a healthy bird that has been fed good food, and has
had lots of time to run around in the garden and peck, eat, breathe good air, and live a good life.
I’ve never had the pleasure of having my own chickens, but I have many friends who have become
backyard farmers and have laying and eating chickens. They all talk about how every chicken has its
own personality and make their own unique sounds.
Everyone seems to really enjoy having them and raising them.
I even have a few friends who have kids who are raising their own chickens and selling the eggs to
make money. What a great way to learn some responsibility.
We have a few chicken stories in our family even though we don’t have our own.
My husband was over in Orillia helping his brother Rob plant his 3,000 bulbs of garlic last weekend.
Jim was in the garden, bent over working, when he suddenly became aware of something pecking at
First there was one chicken, and soon he was surrounded by the birds. Rob has laying chickens.
Jim said they were curious about what he was doing and so they came to check him out and spent
quite a bit of time pecking and moving around him. Jim said it made him laugh that they were so social
and so interested in what was going on.
The chickens kept him company as he worked.
Years ago, Rob had a chicken who lost a leg in a fight with a fox. Rob is a dentist and he was able to
do a repair job on the leg and soon Henny, the chicken, was running around the farm on her one leg.
She followed the other chickens and Rob’s three children everywhere for a couple of more years.
Now, years later, when we have dinner parties Henny often comes up as we laugh and reminisce
My daughter loves to tell the story about how a chicken came out of the barn one day and our dog,
Bella, rolled over onto her back and was totally submissive to the chicken.
Bella is the biggest chicken of all!
The chicken stories remind me that kids remember experiences and adventures more than what we
give them for their birthday or Christmas.
Raising those chickens is work for Rob, and yet the payoff in food and stories is well worth it.
Now his grandchildren come to the farm and they are collecting their own chicken stories that will
soon be told around the dinner table.
I always forget that it’s the simple things that make a difference.
And then I remember.