Ya know what?
Country life isn’t always flowering meadows and bubbling brooks, like I had expected. Actually, it doesn’t necessarily include any lush grass or leafy trees at all. When you’re out west, a good country day might just give you billowing dust clouds and coyotes. Not very picturesque.
But I’m getting off topic. I really do like living out in the country. The peace and quiet. All the open space. It’s good.
But sometimes…country life stinks. Literally.
My sweet son gathered this beautiful basketful of eggs this morning. Lovely, aren’t they?
I love my little hens and the beautiful eggs they give me.
What’s better, though, is what’s inside those beautiful eggs. Because I know that if I crack any of them open, I’ll find rich, dark yolks that are free of hormones and antibiotics. They’re full of rich free-range nutrients. And that makes me marvelously happy.
When I was a kid, there were three things that really grossed me out. Banana strings, chicken veins, and eggs.
When I ate eggs I thought, “Ew, I’m eating an unborn baby chicken.” How disgusting. And cruel, too. The only way I could stand to stomach an egg was to have them well cooked – scrambled. None of that easy over or sunny side up stuff. Shiver.
I had pretty well gotten over my egg issues as an adult. Although banana strings and chicken veins still gross me out.
These past few weeks, though, I have reverted back to my childhood horror of eggs. Get them all away from me!
All this egg trauma because somebody, in my little flock of feathered ladies, was laying a rotten egg. The egg looked perfectly fine. I couldn’t distinguish the bad one from the good ones. But as I was cooking one day, I cracked open an egg and immediately a green haze filled the kitchen and left me unconscious on the floor. Well, just about. It really did make me gag, though.
Remember yelling to your friends and siblings, “Last one there is a rotten egg!” Yeah. This experience has brought new meaning to the phrase “rotten egg”.
So for weeks now, I’ve been forced to smell all the eggs we’ve gathered from our hens to make sure we’re not going to eat a bad one. Sometimes I forget to crack them separately and I ruin several eggs at once just because I cracked the bad egg into my bowl full of good eggs.
I’ve gotten to the point where all eggs smell rotten. The stench now lives in my nose. I go outside and I can still smell the foulness of those bad eggs.
I had to find the culprit. This couldn’t go on. I decided to separate each chicken until we discovered who was laying these horrid eggs.
Well, we lucked out. We found the offender on the first try.
The guilty party was: a Rhode Island Red.
Strangely enough, she looks healthy. She’s lays nice brown eggs with good hard shells. The yolks are nice and dark like always, but somewhere along the way something has gone very wrong. Because my oh my, she really is laying one very bad smelling egg.
Now that we’ve found our suspect, what do we do with her?
It’s not like we’ll be able to sell her or give her away. Who wants a hen who lays rotten eggs, right?
The only solution I’ve come up with so far involves dropping the said chicken off somewhere in hopes that some hippy vegan will keep the little bugger as a pet. Because vegans don’t eat eggs, do they? Well, if they aren’t vegan, they will be. One whiff of a rotten egg and your stomach decides you’re vegan for you.
If you had a chicken who laid rotten eggs, what would you do?
I want to find out why/how a chicken could lay a rotten egg. What’s causing this? Is it something she’s been eating? I’ve googled several different things and checked my chicken handbooks, but I’m not getting anywhere.
For now, we’ll just hang on to her until we figure out what to do.
If you have any ideas, please leave me a comment. I’d love to hear from you!
P.S I’ll update this post if we ever DO find out what’s causing this strange phenomenon.