Lucie Amundsen's account of the little-egg-farm-that-could is just like her: funny, vivacious and witty. You can picture her at a dinner table, laughingly recounting these stories while her audience laughs along in the presence of a master storyteller.
But in chapters detailing events like her husband's announcement over a dinner out that he wanted to pasture-raise chickens, the day the first chickens arrived, Lucie's discovery of "middle agriculture," there are two stories being told simultaneously. Underneath the hilariously told misadventures of two hapless city folk trying to teach themselves farming are quiet stories of what it means to be married, to compromise, to wonder if you'll make it, to support in the darkest hours and to find your purpose and your home.
