WAAAAH!
I've been dreading this day for weeks. This is a photo of the last egg from my hens. I took it on Friday, after breakfast. One lonely blue egg, all by itself in the cardboard condo built for 12.
Back in September, when we were collecting three dozen eggs a day, you would never have convinced me this day would come. I know hens need 12 hours of light, either sunlight or artificial, to continue to lay eggs through the short days of winter. And yes, I did get nervous around Thanksgiving when my inventory dropped to three dozen, with all the holiday baking coming up.
But for the last month, my sweet girls have only been laying one or two eggs a day. Three would be a big day, worthy of a kitchen cheer.
So you can do the math. Breakfast for four people who like (or at least eat) eggs. Pancakes. Bread. Cookies. Cornbread. Many days were a net loss for eggs, with me using the freshly laid ones and pulling a few out of my dwindling supply.
Which leads us to Friday morning and one lonely Aracuana egg. Which I cracked and baked into a lovely pone of yellow cornbread Friday night to soak up all the juicy goodness in the beef chili/stew that simmered all afternoon.
You didn't think I was going to let it stay in the fridge all night long by itself, did you?
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