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The Risk In Cleaning The Egg

Just before I woke up this morning, I had a dream in which I collected two eggs from our chicken coop. One was ordinary, but another had on its shell an incredibly elaborate pattern: butterflies, botanical designs, etc., done in an extremely fine hand. What kind of miracle was this?! I was so excited to […]

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Just before I woke up this morning, I had a dream in which I collected two eggs from our chicken coop. One was ordinary, but another had on its shell an incredibly elaborate pattern: butterflies, botanical designs, etc., done in an extremely fine hand. What kind of miracle was this?! I was so excited to take the egg in to show Julie that I began wiping it off with a wet cloth to make it clean. With each wipe, the pattern came off. By the time the egg was clean, it was also a perfectly ordinary egg. The shock and sadness of that woke me up out of the dream. It was time to get up anyway, so that was that.

Well, an hour later, I couldn’t get any of my kids to go let the hens out of their coops and check for eggs. Since we have had chickens in St. Francisville, I have not once gone out in the morning to let them out, and not once gathered eggs. Frustrated with the kids, I decided to quit nagging and go do it myself.

It turns out that there were two eggs in one of the coops, and they were different sizes and hues. This means that we have a second hen laying now — yay! But the stupid hens won’t use their laying box. This meant that I had to find a stick long enough for me to reach in and haul the eggs over to where I could grab them. Both of the eggs rolled over chicken turds under their roost. They were so pretty when I pulled them out that I took a photo of them. That’s it above.

I brought them inside and rinsed them off, to get the germs from the chicken poo off. Wanted them to be clean when I showed them to Julie. After I did it, she said, “Oh, you never wash off eggs. It removes the outer coating that keeps out bacteria. Just wipe them off when you bring them in.”

Hmm. Didn’t know that. I never harvest the eggs, so how should I know? A few minutes later, I remember the dream I had had only about an hour earlier.

Maybe it’s just a coincidence, but immersing yourself in Dante inclines you to see the whole world allegorically, so I’m wondering. Maybe I should turn to page 45 of the book closest to me to find out what the dream means. 😉

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