That's what the old farmers (and my Dad!) used to call "eggs".
Owen had a lot of fun collecting eggs in the mornings, and was brave enough to slide his hand under the nesting hen to scoop out the eggs! The kids always marvel when they find an egg that is still warm. We're so used to eggs coming from the fridge, we sometimes forget the chicken isn't air-conditioned...
The best part of the adventure, however, was taking the eggs he'd gathered back to the cottage to help make French Toast, and slather local made Maple Syrup all over it.
No comments:
Post a Comment