I was talking to my mom and she recounted something that happened at her house when she had the boys. Apparently she was making them pancakes and had gotten out the eggs. Shannon's head quickly began "spinning around" and he asked her "Grandma, where are your chickens?" She laughed and replied that she didn't have any. Skeptically he asked her "then where do you get your eggs?" She tried explaining to them that she bought them from Kroger, that when people don't raise their own chickens they go to the store to buy eggs, as opposed to the backyard to collect them. Apparently Shannon (who is 4 1/2) doesn't remember a time when we bought eggs. Even before our chickens we most always got our eggs from friends who had chickens.
Then there is the other end of the spectrum. Yesterday was a big day around here as the rest of our Speckled Sussexes "found a new home," all the remaining birds were moved back to the coop (as was the tractor) since it is getting down to freezing temperatures at night, and the Ameracaunas were added into the existing flock.
I had gone out earlier in the day to look for eggs, and there were none. We're usually getting about one a day, but some days there aren't any at all. Justin noticed there was one later though when he was messing around out there. He took it out and set it one of the potted plants that we have on the deck.
When I went inside with the processed chickens I had forgotten all about the egg. Matt, Justin's brother, had come over to help Justin and brought it to me. I asked him if it was dirty or not, and he told me he didn't know what I meant or was really talking about. So, I looked at it, saw it was perfectly clean and told him to just please put in the fridge.
Later that evening, after Matt had left, and as Justin and I were basically getting ready for bed I went into the fridge for something. There, sitting by itself on a shelf alongside jars of condiments was that silly egg. Justin and I each got a good laugh out of this, as the egg carton is fairly visible in the fridge and even the kids know to put eggs into the egg carton!
It just goes to show you how we can live so close (as my mother and Matt each live less than a mile from us) and yet so vastly in different worlds. It is wonderful to see my children be confused by the notion that eggs can come from stores. Tristan (who turned 2 in August) often has to be told if something is bread as the only bread we really have here is bread I bake, made of whole wheat. He just doesn't recognize bleached white bread products bought from stores. This always tickles me too. It is wonderful to see how quickly things can be turned around, how we're always just one generation away from an entirely new way of thinking and of looking at things. Now that is amazing!
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