Yes, those are eggs. Fresh, beautiful eggs. From happy, free-range chickens who live on a farm. Don't they make you want to live on a farm? Or at least buy your eggs from happy, free-range chickens?
This last one is looking out the window of the best plane ride ever. All by my myself (except for the sleeping lady and the cardiologist and the other people filling every one of the seats on the plane, most of them strangers) with a great view of a two-hour sunset, a good book to finish (and another great book to start, if needed), my macbook (I was going to journal in my journal but I lost my one-and-only pen in my bag someplace and had to use my laptop instead. This was not disappointing.), and an awesome, planeworthy, relevant-to-real-life episode of Doctor Who. It would have been the perfect plane ride if not for the yummy but poorly timed expresso. Lesson: Think twice before accepting things from people you meet in airports who keep their money in ziploc bags, no matter how glad you are to see them.
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