Pickled

Maybe it’s time to stop incubating and start pickling

Asking the local game farmer for some advice on the mystery madness which has knocked my grey partridge chick off its feet, I discovered some interesting information. I was also generously given several trays of damaged, misshapen and unusual pheasant eggs which failed the entry assessment to the incubator.

Two hours later, I now have over one hundred and fifty pickled pheasant eggs. I love pickled eggs, and a big part of me is starting to think that, given my consistent bad luck with hatching off gamebirds this summer, I might be better suited to a life in the catering trade.

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