Quack 'n Cluck! Fresh Eggs from the Petting Zoo

Cock-a-doodle-do!

Well, you never know what you'll find driving around the countryside if you just slow down long enough to read the road signs.

When Auntie's BFF Sean and I zip from one flea market to another on summer Sundays, we have an unspoken agreement that when either of us spots a road sign for something we deem "detour worthy," of course we must stop. 

It could be anything that strikes our fancy - from "Garage Sale" to "Chip Wagon" to the rare and completely exhilarating, "Free Kittens" sign. So when Auntie spotted a sign for "Fresh Eggs and Strawberries," it seemed too good to be true.  Auntie slammed on the brakes.

Personally speaking, I'm always on the lookout for detours of the culinary kind especially ones that may result in a billowy dessert soufflé for dinner. 

A few metres after the sign, we veered to the right onto a gravel patch where there stood a lady at a little wooden farm stand packed with fresh strawberries, raspberries and vegetables at good prices too.

After buying some strawberries and eating a bunch (natch!), we stretched our legs a bit and then it was time to find those eggs!  

The lady at the farm stand pointed us in the direction of a narrow grassy pathway.   Sean and I walked along the path and not far from the farm stand, we arrived at a little fenced-in meadow and a small, immaculate barn.  

 

Cloud and roof

Around the back of the barn we saw some llamas, noisy geese and some waddling ducks.  As it turned out, all of the birds were the "feather department" of what was a little family petting zoo.

No way!  Pony rides!

In the barn there were about a dozen hens walking about and pecking at the ground while a rooster strutted back and forth managing the situation.  They all seemed very happy and healthy.  While we were admiring the birds and soaking in the scene, a nice woman wearing galoshes and a big smile came up to us.  "Would you like to go inside?" she asked.  Auntie is definitely a city slicker so the prospect of going into a real hen house in a pretty barn seemed like a lot of fun. 

The floor of the barn was coated with fresh wood chips that made it smell nice, and here and there were milk crates filled with straw.  These were the nests where the hens laid their eggs.  In one of the crates, Auntie spotted two big eggs.

Auntie really wanted to take those eggs but the nice woman said that she'd already collected the eggs for the day and had some waiting outside for us.  My, those were very big eggs to have come from such small hens!

After I took some photos, we left the barn and went back outside towards another little stand to get our eggs.  They cost $5 a dozen.  A real deal considering how big and fresh they were and we were now personally acquainted with the hens who'd laid them.

The nice woman asked if we'd ever cooked with duck eggs and then she gave us one of those too.  It was a lot bigger than the hen's egg and it was white instead of brown.

 

Sean and the duck egg

Big eggs from happy hens

He rules the roost, just like Uncle Jim!

Well, it was definitely worth the detour and next time Sean and I drive down that road we'll stop in for more eggs. We'll have to take one of those pony rides too!

Something's Been Bugging Me

Don't you know it's rude to stare?

It's no secret that Auntie takes a lot of photos.  Maybe too many.

This escaped Uncle Jim's notice for the longest time until one day when Auntie ran out of storage space on her computer.  This was followed by strange screeching noises coming from my hard-drive, a funny smell, and a dreaded "blue screen."

This forced Uncle Jim to pay closer attention to what Auntie was up to with her camera.

Uncle Jim keeping his eye on Auntie

While he was keeping a closer eye on Auntie, Uncle Jim noticed that Auntie didn't have a lens for taking close ups.  So Uncle Jim kindly bought Auntie a macro lens.

Ever since then, Auntie's been on her knees and belly, taking a closer look at things, especially in the garden where very strange things seem to be everywhere.

A dried up bat, a spider eating a fly, loud buzzing insects and ants on the march.  Auntie has seen some strange goings on.

And you thought Halloween was scary!

A dried up bat I found

 

Ouch! Tthat's got to hurt

   

What IS that thing?

I've fallen over and I can't get up!

 

Seems that all the pictures I've taken with my new macro lens have filled up my hard-drive again.  It's back to the drawing board for poor Uncle Jim!

Dial "C" for Carrots

The sun was shining, a light breeze was blowing from the east, and it was a balmy 15 degrees according to Auntie's lucky deer thermometer that was hanging from a post in the back yard. I'd won it in playing bingo a few years ago so it's always had a place of honour in the yard. 

So as you can see, the day was as perfect as it could be for baking carrot cakes, four of them in total, all destined for my fund raising bake table at the annual Great Glebe Garage Sale.

Auntie's heart was singing and preparations were progressing nicely but when it came time to grate the carrots it all came to a screeching halt.  Imagine Auntie's dismay when I noticed that one of the three bags of carrots I'd bought from my local supermarket the day before seemed a lot lighter than the others.

This wasn't good.  Auntie needed every gram of those carrots to make four carrot cakes.

Just to make sure I wasn't imagining things, which Auntie sometimes does, I pulled out my scale and weighed that bag of carrots.  Sure enough, something was wrong.  It should have weighed almost a kilo but it didn't.  As you know, Auntie takes baking very seriously so too few carrots in her carrot cakes would never do.

I threw on my coat and hat, ready to head out the door to buy more carrots when I noticed a phone number on one of the bags.   Hmm, I thought.  Maybe if I explain the situation someone can send me some emergency carrots!

Auntie is a bit cynical these days when it comes to customer service.  Sadly, it's a lost art but with a jolt of optimism, no doubt fuelled by the cheery prospect of baking all day, I thought what the heck.  It was a free phone call and maybe the Green Giant himself would answer. Wouldn't that have made Auntie's day?

Safe from squirrels and little fingers

Auntie has always had a place in her heart for the Green Giant.  When Auntie was a little girl she sent away for a 5-foot tall stuffed Jolly Green Giant and it was her very favourite thing for a long time.  Auntie's fondness for vegetables and big green men in leafy togas goes way back.

There go to two lucky ladies with the last pieces of carrot cake

While I dialled the number on the bag, I was expecting to hear a recorded message like "press one for peas, two for corn, three for carrots" but instead, a very nice lady named Julie answered.

I told Julie the sad tale of the light bag of carrots and instead of laughing, she was very sympathetic and apologised.

After I hung up the phone with Julie, Auntie discovered a few loose carrots in the vegetable crisper so off came my hat and coat and out came the grater again. When I finished grating and weighing the carrots, I had just enough to make all four carrot cakes.  Phew.

A few days later on a sunny Saturday morning during the Great Glebe Garage Sale, Auntie sold all four carrot cakes, one slice at a time, each topped with a hand-made carrot made of white chocolate.  For a few hours, I made many people very happy while raising lots of loot for Auntie and Uncle Jim's favourite charity.

One pound of carrots = one carrot cake = 16 happy customers

One morning, a few days after the sale, Auntie heard a clacking at the mailbox and guess what?  Julie sent me a coupon for more carrots!

Isn't that nice?  I think Uncle Jim may be getting a nice carrot cake soon.

Maya Visits Paris

Vingt dieux, la belle église!  When was the last time you received a thank you note from a visiting 12 year old niece?  Seems that her Finishing School tuition wasn't wasted.

Maya's thank you note is also today's guest post entitled, The Sacre Coeur Economy. It's an enlightened perspective of her first trip to Paris where she and her Mom zipped to by high speed train after visiting Uncle Jim and I in the south of France. 

Thank you sweetheart.  You can guest post for Auntie any time.

The Sacre Coeur Economy

Dear Auntie:

                                                                                

     I thank you enormously for your invitation to guest post, although I had some trouble deciding what to write about, I have come to a conclusion of writing about the Sacre Coeur, an enormous church and the area surrounding, because you were not there for it, and because it was my favourite place to drink cappuccinos at cafés and laugh at other stupid tourists. 

     Anyway, the Sacre Coeur was about ten blocks away from our hotel, and the area surrounding it is like what silly tourists get into their silly heads about Paris.  In truth, Paris is just like New York, only much better architecture, and everyone speaks French. 

The hotel was unusually coloured

So, on day two, we walk up the tiny, twisting pathways filled to the brim with busy, bustling people, and then suddenly half of the population spoke English.  We had reached what I like to call the Sacre Coeur Economy. 

     The streets were packed with mildly crazy tourists, and we found ourselves amidst a crowd, being helplessly shoved up the hill.  We pass two mimes and a lady with a cart covered from top to bottom in flowers, playing an accordion.

 

     Then, my Mom shouts, and I follow her finger to one of the most magnificent towers ever.  At this point, we were only a block away and were already gaping with mouths as wide as fishes.

 

The view of –and from- the magnificent Sacre Coeur

     So of course Mom wanted to go to the top.  Three hundred spiralling steps up, and three hundred spiralling steps down.   The view was stunning, and even through the pollution and clouds, I could make out the faint outline of the Eiffel Tower.

Another amazing thing about the Sacre Coeur Economy:  the shops

     I would also like to thank you for not only allowing me to write this, but for giving me no other option but to have a marvellous time – Uncle Jim, you too.

        

     I look forward to next time,

Love and hugs,

Maya.

Two Nieces Visit Auntie

The Niece-ling visits the Auntie.  Let the spoiling begin!

It was a rare, "three generations under the same roof" week for Auntie and Uncle Jim, four if you count the fruit flies who arrived on some bananas a few days prior.

Our fabulous niece Tina and her equally fabulous daughter Maya jetted half way around the world to visit us at our seaside shack in the south of France.  Uncle Jim can count all of his relatives, both distant and close, on his fingers and toes so how lucky were we to have a thumb and pinkie to spoil at the same time? 

The last time niece Tina and niece-ling Maya visited was in 2002 when Maya was just a wee kitten.  Celine pointed to the kitchen doorway where almost 11 years ago to the day, Maya stood still just long enough for Auntie to mark her height on the door jamb.  I had completely forgotten about doing that.  She was under three feet tall at the time.

While we stood there, marvelling at the mark, a few things came to mind: boy, time sure flies, followed by, I'll have to have a word with the cleaning lady.

We made the most of our short time together.  I sent Maya up a tree or two to pick lemons and oranges, we baked a cake, she ate Moules and Crêpes Suzette and we haggled in French for souvenirs at a Vide Grenier or giant garage sale.

We had a "three country day" where after waking up and having breakfast in France, we drove through Italy and had lunch in The Principality of Seborga where niece-ling fearlessly ate wild boar and we met a little dog that was so adorable we plotted to kidnap it.

On the sunniest day, we all jumped in a helicopter, cameras in hand, and zoomed around in the sky, as one does on a sunny day, to get a new perspective on the world.

You make a diversion and I'll grab the dog

Bargain hunting for souvenirs at the Vide Grenier

Maya is an "up looker"

Time to say goodbye

Then, all of a sudden, we looked at Auntie's cat calendar and realized the party was over and it was time for them to leave.  Next stop, Paris on the high speed TGV train.

I asked Maya to write about her trip to Paris and she wrote a guest post for Auntie entitled, The Sacre Coeur Economy.

I foresee a brilliant and adventurous life for Maya and I hope she'll write more posts for The Auntie Times.

Thanks sweetheart. You can visit any time.

XO, Auntie