Breaking Fast

I usually forget to eat breakfast.

Oh, sorry! I should have had an intro to that statement or warned you that it was confession time or something. How rude.

But it’s true. I usually forget to eat breakfast because I’ve forgotten to eat breakfast for probably most of my life unless someone else prepared it or reminded me. I know, I know! It’s a bad habit, but there is a very real reason I usually forget to eat breakfast:

I hate mornings.

For as long as I can remember I have hated having to wake up. Grumbled, hit people, thrown things – it’s all happened. It’s not that I don’t like living or seeing the morning, it’s just that I hate to get up when I’ve been having such a nice, deep sleep. True story: unless I have to catch a plane or be somewhere that is equally strict on time I don’t get out of bed until I’ve hit snooze no less than 4-7 times.

That’s kind of embarrassing. I can’t believe I told you that.

Anyway, what I came here to say is that this morning I went back to the kitchen after making my coffee and walking away for a while because I remembered that our neighbor gave us fresh eggs yesterday! Hallelujah! He has some very pretty chickens in his yard (and is inspiring me to build my own hen house and get some of these lavender beauties:

Aren’t they pretty? They’re called Lavender Orphington chickens. I’ll keep you updated on any chicken happenings, I promise. I think it will be a while though – maybe next year. Ha! Michael, is that not “a while” enough?) So I scrambled some fresh eggs this morning and sliced some cherry tomatoes (or maybe they were champagne tomatoes, I forget) and OHMYGOODNESS! Why didn’t anyone ever tell me how much better fresh eggs taste? They look different, smell different while cooking, and, heaven above!, they taste so different!

I’m going to have to re-think this whole “I forget to eat breakfast thing.” For as long we still have our fresh eggs, that is. This is more of an argument to have chickens than ever. Now that I’m going to start eating breakfast, I have to have eggs. Now that I know what a good egg tastes like, I can’t go back to store bought eggs. Ipso facto columbo oreo: I need backyard chickens. Only two, maybe three. Maybe “a while” should just be until my birthday. Or…I don’t know, Easter? That seems appropriate. People usually get chickens or ducks for Easter.

And completely off topic, but how the heck did that tradition start? I mean…really. Are we drawing parallels between the resurrection of Christ leaving the tomb to a baby chicken breaking free of an egg? Let’s be serious now, someone must know the answer! Although, as a child who ended up with a duck for a pet (I can’t remember if we got him for Easter or not, and I think he mostly belonged to my little brother), I can’t think of a more fun pet! He was messy, of course. And I think my parents had to trim his feathers so he wouldn’t fly away, but he was special. When he got too big – and did he ever get big – my parents arranged to release him into one of the city parks that had a large duck population. He assimilated very well. I was pretty sure that I saw him once a few years later when I visited with some friends – he was a pure white duck with one black patch of feathers on the crown of his head. He didn’t waddle over to see me or anything, but I’m convinced I saw him.

Anyway. Those scrambled eggs. They were divine. The tomatoes weren’t bad either, but I’m hoping that when I make breakfast next month (and hopefully with more fresh eggs) that I’ll have some of my very own garden fresh cherry tomatoes to slice and eat too. I really hope we’re semi-self sufficient one day. At least in the veggie department.

The spring garden is doing really well! My fancy crookneck squash plant has put on four squash! And there is at least one zucchini on my zuc plants that I’ve seen. All my tomato plants have bloomed and should be putting on tomatoes soon. Our sugar snap peas have taken off and should be producing some pea pods in the next month or so, all of our pepper plants have put on peppers, my red onions are growing, our little bit of garlic is sprouting, and all that’s left to take off is our assorted salad greens! As I told you, I’m working on being veggie independent. We should be able to make our own salsa and salads at the very least. I love seeing the way God grows things. It is a pleasure and an honor to see Him work such tiny miracles every day. See here for what God has been teaching me through gardening.


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