Because I am Aversive to Dying

[wolf]

Originally Posted by Glinda

Quiz: How can you tell a raw egg from a hard boiled egg without cracking it open?

Spin it. If it spins well, it's hard boiled. If it wobbles, it's not.

Awesome info, thanks!

[glatt]

Glinda, that's a great post!

When I was growing up, our local grocery store offered double yolk eggs. I guess the local egg producer would sort the eggs out and package the double yolk ones together. My mom would always buy the double yolk ones. I bet they were cheaper.

This same egg producer would advertise on tv. I remember the jingle well. "Brown eggs are local eggs, and local eggs are fresh." They sold brown eggs and were trying to make wary consumers understand that they were just fine.

[Glinda]

Originally Posted by wolf

Spin it. If it spins well, it's hard boiled. If it wobbles, it's not.

Awesome info, thanks!

Aw, you guys knew the spinning trick!

More arcane chicken facts for your Encyclopaedia of Useless Information:

Did you know that hens can crow? No kidding. Happened to me.

My first roo ("cock" for the naughty in the crowd) was a real bastard. Oh, he did his job keeping the girls safe and protected (and properly coited), but he apparently considered me as much of a threat as the hawks and coyotes that live out here in the woods. Came after me all the time.

After two bouts of infection from being spurred by that little fuck, I gave him away. Within about a week of his departure, one of my hens stopped laying eggs and began beating up the other hens. Then, she started crowing! It was a pretty lame crow, to be sure, but by god, that little bitch was turning into a roo!

I had to separate her from the flock, because she had become so mean. She apparently thought she was a roo, and that all the other hens were roos, too, so she had to fight them. And because freaked out hens won't lay eggs, she had to go. Since then (it's been about two years), she's had the run of the yard and sleeps in the greenhouse with Marlon, one of my bantam roos, and they get along just fine. Marlon had to be separated from the flock too, because once the big roo was gone, Marlon started fighting his brother (who was the No. 2 roo) for the top spot.

Now, I have a big, ugly leghorn roo in the chicken yard who does his job and doesn't harass me in the least. (Yay!)

Chickens are weird.

Here's a pic of Butch and Marlon hanging out on the front porch:




Yes, my front door is purple.