Intrigue

I'm happy to report there were no ill effects from yesterday's poisoned omelet episode.

Considering the events of the recent past, however, this morning we had an interesting visitor. A Knights of Columbus insurance agent came over to upgrade my husband's life insurance policy.

A crack of lightning and ominous music would be appropriate about now.

I Might Have Killed My Husband

I'm taking a little break from "fresh" eggs, 'cause the ones lately have been anything but.

This morning I arose at 5:00am to make coffee, blueberry muffins, sausage and an omelet for my husband before he left for the farm. Not wanting another episode like the one before, I tried to remember how to check (without cracking it) if an egg is rotten. I vaguely remembered something about putting them in a pan of cold water, but I couldn't remember if the bad eggs floated or sunk. So I put 5 eggs in; 3 floated and 2 sunk to the bottom. Because there were 3 floating, I thought "surely we don't have more bad eggs than good ones... the floaters must be the good ones."

I cracked the floaters and omeletted them up. Each one I cracked had something slightly off to it (not the smell, but just a certain "something"). Trying to justify the fact that I'd thrown the sinkers away, I attributed the "something" to the fact that REAL chickens laid them instead of the "fake" chickens in the factories, and, after all "this is what REAL eggs look like." My husband ate them up and liked them.

Just now I googled it and, "Fresh eggs will sink to the bottom of the bowl and lie on their sides. Eggs that float at the surface are bad and should not be consumed." (Never mind the fact I've made hard-boiled eggs a million times and never saw them float before... it was early in the morning!)

I don't think I'll warn him just yet...

Last One To Read This Is A...

I've been transplanted from city life for a year now (almost to the day), and I've learned many things. One of them is that Little House on the Prairie is dramatized, sensationalized, and romanticized.

While, yes, farm fresh eggs from chickens whose names you know are glorious things...


... you never get rotten eggs from a store!

I have refrained from posting a picture of the noxious thing because, quite frankly, it looks 1/2 as nasty as it smells and the fetid stench nearly caused me to wretch (I don't want a visual reminder of the putridness).

But never fear. Since I've removed the malodorous monster, disinfected my entire kitchen, and air-freshenered all remaining fumes from the foul beast, I am still going to make these decadent oatmeal fudge nut bars. (I think they're best served warm and gooey with ice cream, but they're also amazing after they've set up).

Back to Normalcy

Well, my family has returned to various parts of the country... to their city lives. I love them dearly and miss them sorely. I had a wonderful time while they were here and saw parts of the northwest I've never been to before. It's GORGEOUS (will post pictures soon). But, life on the farm has its benefits; not the least of which is my husband. This is my home now.

Not much is going on at the farm these days; cherry harvest is over and we're between hay cuttings. I've re-scrubbed my house from top to bottom so there's not much housework to be done, either. It's the perfect time to start a new project.

Breadmaking!

Let the games begin.

Just Around the Corner

There's so much beauty to be found in the Northwest. This is just around the corner from the farm:

We took my family here to skip rocks into the river. It was insanely fun :).