Since finding Saturday alone and abandoned in the road six months ago, I have been saying that I can't wait until the day I can have fresh eggs for breakfast. Well she gave me a belated Christmas present - on boxing day, following a rather traumatic few hours of worried clucking and frenzied wandering through the house, she laid her first egg. It was so tiny it made me so happy, but the thought of actually eating it was totally horrible. I had a strange emotional attachment to them - they are so perfect and warm and are her babies - yes I know it is not a baby really, it has not been fertilised, blah, blah, blah, but I could just not bring myself to eat them. I gave two away and received a thank you note last Saturday saying they were the most delicious Saturday breakfast - pun intended I assume.
Well, today I broke down - the carton was full and I decided that it would be even worse for them to be wasted. And he was right - they were divine - not surprising given her diet. She is totally spoiled - she eats sunflower seeds and blueberries, tuna, quinoa, wild rice and any manner of vegetation and bugs she finds in the garden.
So here they are - her first dozen perfect eggs... thank you Saturday for a yummy breakfast...
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