Good pop/bad pop

2001-01-24-bad-mood.gif What’s this?


Harking back to our excellent conversation about eggs-over-easy, I have a younger friend who keeps a few chickens. Occasionally, he provides my household with fresh eggs, and are they ever good. Even compared to those eggs from “cageless, free-range, organic, hypoallergenic, shampooed-daily chickens” that cost double in the supermarket, Eric’s fresh eggs are so much better. I’ve never seen such rich, yellow yolks. I’d love to keep some chickens myself; just watching a chicken for five minutes is one of those experiences that reminds you not to take life too seriously. However, until they can be trained to feed and clean up after themselves on those weekends I feel like going to the beach, I’ll have to rely on Eric—or, more precisely, his chickens.