aren't these pretty? They were tasty, too. I think these colored eggs come from the araucana chicken. These particular eggs, however, came from a co-worker of my mother. (who is a giant araucana chicken!! who works at the hospital! Not with patients, you understand, but somewhere in the same mutant lab that created her.)
reading update: I decided it would be ridiculous to rush through a book that I'm enjoying at a leisurely pace in order to get to a book I might not even like, so I have put aside Moby Dick for now and am reading The Song Is You. I haven't gotten far enough in it yet to say if I love it or loathe it, but maybe I won't land on either of those extremes. Actually, I can say that I don't loathe it, but the whole thing makes me wary and I'm worried it's going to devolve into some kind of stalker novel even though I know it probably won't. I'm leaving plenty of space in my mind to be pleasantly surprised, though. (I love pleasant surprises!)
drunken idiots on the corner whom I can hear through my open window update: is it wrong that I hope they have a firecracker accident scary enough to make them stop shouting and setting off explosives, but not loss of limb serious? Because that's where I am right now. Maybe I should tell them if they keep it up a giant, firecracker-hating, blue-egg laying chicken is going to come and wreak havoc upon their alleyway. Yeah. Dr. Mutant Chicken doesn't like loud noises.
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