What does a mild mannered family of three need with 110 chickens? I’ve been asking myself that question all morning. I put it to Jake at least eighteen times — “Why? Why? WHY?” — and his only response was a faint but evil gleam in his eye.
The seventy birds from today I can sort of understand because they are meat birds which, once processed, we tend to sell out of in a hurry. But the forty chicks from yesterday are all layers. We have 12 layers already. What are we supposed to do with 52 laying hens? That is 52 eggs per day. Selling 52 eggs per day is a challenge because from where I’m standing the farm fresh egg market is glutted. Everyone and their dog has laying hens. Farmer’s markets burst with them. Finding steady buyers isn’t as easy as it sounds and this is probably the longest you’ve ever thought about the economics of ovum in your entire life.
But these are trifling concerns, according to Jake, mere inconveniences.
My husband has gone chicken mental.
You know what we’re having for dinner tonight, don’t you?
Quiche. Always quiche.