My neighbor’s urban chickens are always running their beaks. After two years I finally got an omelet to show for it.
Last week, a 12-year-old boy knocked on my door holding a small container of brown eggs.
“They were laid today,” he said, handing over the loot, still speckled with black feathers and bird crap.
“Thanks,” I said. “I was in the mood for a good scrambly.”
He scurried away before I could ask him if his goose lays any golden eggs.
Oh wait, a minute!
Let me blow your mind about my egg-cellent neighbor. Those of you breastfeeding mommies who’ve ever combed the web for answers to your nursing woes: I’m guessing some of you gleaned the best info from kellymom.
Well, guess what kids?
Kelly is my neighbor. Apparently she’s an expert at lactation and raising chickens. [Enter small world reference.]
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve searched her site in the throes of a breastfeeding fit without realizing I could hit up the source IN PERSON. ACROSS THE STREET.
She says she built the site when her daughter was born 15 years ago, predating the launch of most mommy blogs. You can imagine my idiotic you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me response when I learned she was my chicken-farming neighbor.
Her daughter was babysitting Henry one day and I’m not sure how we got on the subject of blogs, websites or boobs, but at one point the girl shrugged and said, “I think my mom’s website is popular.”
Uh. Yeah, I’d say so. It’s one of the most thorough breastfeeding sites on the Internet. My midwife recommended I check it out during my pregnancy.
On another note: my first half-marathon is less than one week away. I’ve refrained from blogging about my training because I find writing (and reading) about running to be tedious. Although believe me, I have plenty to say about the subject.
I can say this however: yesterday I ran 10 miles straight, averaging a nine-minute mile in fairly blustery conditions. It felt amazing.