Breakfast, freshly laid. Thank you my ladies. For those of you who do not have access to farm fresh eggs, surely you must go on a mission to find a local farmer or neighbor with backyard hens willing to part with these little powerhouses of nutrition. Coming from hens free to roam as nature intended makes for quality and taste that cannot be beat.
The MIL (Mother-In-Law, [who lives with us]) and myself will be eating these sunny side up over fried red potatoes. It is an unbelievably balmy 41〫on this first day of February with a pleasant week forecast ahead and I am grateful for the mild winter thus far.
My youngest daughter recently moved to the "Gateway of the Ozarks" accepting a difficult to find, full time teaching position in her field, and I am hoping she can now also find a local supplier for the quality of eggs (and more) she knows from home.
So I received a text message from her a few days back that simply read, "Last post on blog=May 24, 2011". So, my dear youngest, I will do my best to keep you updated on the daily drama that is your home sweet home, otherwise known as "Welcome Comfort Farm".