When Jonathan Swindells and Jennie Queen moved to the Brunswick countryside in 2020 — an uncertain time when pandemic isolation had many people experimenting with whipped coffee and sourdough bread starters — their family quickly found an obsession of its own: chickens.

“We started with 10 Rhode Island reds and then it escalated from there,” Queen said.

The whole thing was Swindells’ idea, Queen said, but she quickly fell in love with the hens. Now, four years later, several Rhode Island reds roam the property at 577 River Road alongside other chicken and duck breeds spouting a content cacophony of clucks and quacks. The quails who also live on the property, despite their delicate size, occasionally erupt in primitive, dinosaur-like shrieks.

The 45 free-range chickens produce eggs of various sizes and colors. The eggs, Queen said, sell out every day.

“She’s by far the best egg person in the Greater Brunswick area,” said customer Claudia Adams, while stopping by to get quail egg scissors. “It’s more than just a transaction.”

While the quaint farm has a close relationship with its customer base, a series of recent egg thefts have pushed Swindells and Queen to beef up security. Queen said the stand will now host a camera to better track sales.


The mishap, though unpleasant, highlighted the community’s attachment to the stand. A Facebook post Queen made about the theft drew support and offers to donate money to make up for the loss. Someone did eventually donate $10, Queen said, which was more than enough for two cartons of eggs. Thankfully, theft is highly uncommon and eggs are usually paid for in full, she said.

Egg customers are easily drawn to the stand from the country road. The structure is set up with a repurposed filing cabinet that Swindells artfully spray-painted for handling transactions, while egg-themed string lights, chicken-themed signs and flags with hens add flare to the stand.

The chickens lead equally embellished lives. One coop that came with the property is befitted with a sparkling chandelier that Swindells brought home for the nesting fowl. On the outside of the structure is a doll house that he nailed to the wall with rooms converted to provide additional space for egg laying and general revelry. The cherry on top is the disco balls scattered throughout the yard — because the hens are always down to party, sure, but mainly to scare away winged predators such as hawks that circle the area.

The stand, which Queen said is not set up to make a profit, is simply an extension of the love Queen and Swindells have for their flock.

“Knock on wood, everything’s been really good,” she said. “At the end of the day, it’s worth it.”

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