The Egg Table Story
The Egg Table
Farm
My Story
I grew up here in the valley, then moved away — returning for holidays, birthdays, and to help mow the lawn. After my parents passed, I inherited the farm and moved back.
At first, I wasn’t sure why I was here. I didn’t really have a plan — and I think I was still sad. I thought, maybe if I got a few chickens, I’d have a reason to stay a little longer. I wasn’t sure. But I stayed.
coming home
the first chickens
I bought six chicks, and to my surprise, they were an absolute delight. There wasn't a space for them, so I turned my mom’s half-finished greenhouse into a chicken coop.
It took me soooo much longer than I imagined. But in the process, I felt a shift — like something was gently beginning again.
2/6
My Story
The table
Ever heard of chicken math? The flock grew. I had far more eggs than I could eat.
So I dragged an old potting table I’d built from salvaged planks — back when I lived in Seattle — to the end of the driveway. A place to share eggs with neighbors.
A simple table. The Egg Table.
3/6
My Story
Sharing eggs
At first, I cut egg cartons in half and left eggs out on Saturdays. Neighbors would walk or bike by and take what they could use. It felt... peaceful.
Then one day, I found eggs broken on the ground and felt stumped — why would someone do that? A neighbor trotted over to solve the mystery: crows. So I covered the eggs with a clear plastic bag and weighed it down with bricks.
4/6
My Story
The magic begins
And then one Saturday, a painted rock appeared — displaying a darrrrling chicken. A talented neighbor (shoutout to C.M. Herald) had quietly shared their gifts.
And just like that, the table had a life of its own.
5/6
My Story
the egg table farm
I want this farm to serve the community even more — a small legacy for my parents, who once raised beets for seed here. It can feel overwhelming, but I’m ready to step forward.
I’m naming it The Egg Table Farm. I have big plans, in small bites. The painted chicken rock disappeared eventually, but I’d snapped a photo. That photo became my logo.
And now, we begin.
6/6
