I spent about 15 minutes in the orchard this morning, picking my breakfast. The blackberry bushes still are exuberant with fruit and OMIGOSH!!!, the peach trees actually have a few tiny, ripe, perfect peaches coyily beckoning from under their sexy, frond-like leaves. One sashay through all that richness and my day's fruit requirements were well met, though I picked up an early-ripening Lodi apple for good measure. Then, though I sort of hate going into the hen house (stinky, noisy, and what is that stuff on the bottom of my flip-flop?), I took a deep breath, dodged in and found a couple of eggs so fresh the hen was still cussin' as I shut the door and briskly walked away.
I try not to be a baby about those chickens, but I have to admit, they creep me out. When I lived here on the farm a few years ago, there were fewer chickens and they seemed sweet and manageable. Now, I worry that they might one day just have had it with all this egg-thievery and there go my eyes, pecked out by a perturbed hen.
Still, my piracy was effective and I whisked the eggs away while I still had my sight, back to the house where I made this breakfast.
The only thing I didn't pick up on my morning ramble was the fabulous Grains Galore bread from the Farm to Market Bread Co. in Kansas City, so full of whole-grain goodness, it's like eating baked bird seed. OK, it's much better than that, but nutritionally pretty similar. Best regular day-to-day bread I've found so far.
As I sat down with an anticipatory sigh to enjoy this wholesome repast, I smooth freaked out. Something huge and weird was crawling across my way-cool outdoor rug!
Something huge and icky and Loch Ness-y and ... wai-i-t a minute. Crawling slo-o-o-owly across the rug, crawling snail-like across the ... a-HA!
That was no Kansas Nessie, creeping back to our pond. It was only a wee little snail, viewed from a rare vantage point as it slid across my sliding glass door. I have now had the privilege of seeing a sidewalk's eye view of a snail – cute in a bizarre, slimy sort of way.
I don't think I could face a plate of buttery, garlicky escargot at 6 in the morning, but this version of snails for breakfast suits me just fine.