So now I have more chickens than I know what to do with, and here I am, knee-deep in eggs. Let me tell you, no one warned me about what would happen. I started out with a dream: fresh eggs, some adorable hens pecking around my yard, maybe a cute chicken coop for Instagram\u2014#homesteadinggoals, right? Fast forward, and my once peaceful mornings have turned into an all-you-can-eat egg buffet, and I\u2019m the chef who didn\u2019t sign up for this.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My hens have officially gone wild. These egg-laying machines have turned my cozy homestead into an eggpocalypse, and I\u2019m just trying to stay afloat in a sea of yolks. It\u2019s not just a couple of eggs, oh no. It\u2019s dozens, EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. And before you know it, my counter is overflowing, the fridge is overflowing, my neighbors won\u2019t answer the door when they see me with another egg carton, and I\u2019m seriously considering making eggs the currency of my household.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
If you\u2019ve ever seen Forrest Gump<\/em>, think of that scene where Bubba lists every shrimp dish under the sun. Yeah, that\u2019s me now, but with eggs. Eggs are the fruit of the farm. You can fry \u2018em, scramble \u2018em, boil \u2018em, bake \u2018em\u2026 heck, you could probably make a casserole out of \u2018em if you\u2019re desperate enough. There’s scrambled eggs, poached eggs, boiled eggs, fried eggs, deviled eggs, you can make egg omelettes, egg frittatas, egg quiche, egg custard, meringue, hell, there’s even egg flan…and when I get really desperate, I make them into random casseroles, throw them in smoothies, or barter them with neighbors who still tolerate me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Here\u2019s the thing: right now, I\u2019m drowning in eggs…but very, very soon, winter\u2019s going to roll around, and my hens will give me nothing<\/em>. It\u2019s a real feast-or-famine situation, and I have to plan ahead (because obviously, I\u2019m now a survivalist by necessity). So, what do I do?<\/p>\n\n\n\n But wait, there\u2019s more! Chickens aren\u2019t my only chaos-inducers. Between my children<\/em> and these clucking egg factories, I\u2019m basically a full-time circus master. The chickens are constantly breaking things (coops, feeders, you name it), my kids are constantly breaking things and are either trying to smuggle eggs into their toy boxes, or running around like madmen like I\u2019m raising feral humans… and I’m over here trying to hold onto any shred of sanity I may possibly still possess.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I\u2019ve learned things I never thought I would\u2014like how to fix broken fences, unclog a coop drain (yeah, gross), and manage an egg overload without losing my mind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In the end, as overwhelming as it gets, I wouldn\u2019t trade this chaotic, yolk-filled life for anything. Well, maybe for fewer eggs (ok, not really). And maybe for a couple of days off (definitely). But otherwise, I\u2019m in this for the long haul, eggs and all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n So, there you have it\u2014hens gone wild, eggs galore, and somehow, I\u2019m still here, maybe a little cracked but surviving.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" So now I have more chickens than I know what to do with, and here I am, knee-deep in eggs. Let me tell you, no one warned me about what would happen. I started out with a dream: fresh eggs, some adorable hens pecking around my yard, maybe a cute chicken coop for Instagram\u2014#homesteadinggoals, right? […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-121","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-homesteading"],"yoast_head":"\nStoring Eggs Like My Life Depends On It (Because It Kind of Does)<\/h4>\n\n\n\n
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It\u2019s Not Just Eggs\u2014It\u2019s the Full Farm Chaos<\/h4>\n\n\n\n
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