Eggs, Eggs, Eggs
(Story by Meta Lale as told to Erin Lale)
Our family moved from Bismarck to a farm in Washington near Fort Lewis. Dad got a job at the Nally's plant, so the bulk of the farm work fell to mom. We had a thousand chickens, some pigs, two cows, several goats, and 75 fruit trees. Many soldiers stayed at our place while mustering out. I remember mom cooking eggs, eggs, eggs, every which way: fried, scrambled, boiled. They didn't have fresh eggs and milk in the military, so the soldiers thought those things were a treat.
Mom cleaned the chicken house daily. When the book The Egg and I came out, I overheard her say to Polly Imus, "I could have written that book, but I was too busy shoveling shit."