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 3000 bulbs of garlic last weekend.

Jim was in the garden bent over working  when he suddenly became aware of something pecking at

his feet.

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

about her.

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.