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The egg story brought an instant batch of memories: gathering eggs in and around the hen house and barnyard with Grandad and Grandma Hall, as a boy when I visited their Kansas farm; Grandad sitting in the combination tornado shelter/root cellar that most midwest farms had not far from the kitchen door of the house, washing each egg by hand before placing them in trays that held a dozen dozen; storing them in the cool root cellar for a few days until the weekly drive into Wichita (15 miles or so--a long trip to a 6 year old--where he sold them for cash to a grocer. The cash was the "egg" part of "butter and egg money" which helped keep the farm going between harvest of wheat, corn, oats, and between the yearly trips to the stockyard where he sold 50 or more lambs that were born in the spring and fattened over the rest of the year. Thanks for the memories, Doc.


and can you imagine that i have not been able to find ONE roadside fresh egg sign in these parts? i've been looking and asking around and refuse to buy them from the grocery store. everyone has the big chicken houses and raises them to sell to purdue or pilgrim's pride.

i have to drive an hour to get them at a little market that sells them from a local farmer. guess i'm gonna have to raise my own..... :)

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