Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Another tale of eggs, and some yarn




I just stomped through the snow to feed the chickens and found another tiny egg. So I decided it was once again time to tell a couple of egg or chicken stories from my childhood.

It was early Spring or Winter and my aunt Agnes with whom we lived for a time during WWII had not been to the chicken/geese coop in a couple of days. I can't remember whether it was due to the weather or due to too much fighting around us, but there was snow on the ground. When she finally was able to go to the chicken coop again, I played shadow and trundled along behind her. ( I was probably between four and five years old.) Well, the chickens and the geese had had it with being cooped up and had invaded each others territory so that by the time we opened the door they quickly flew the coop, so to speak. When it came time to lock them up again, my aunt was walking behind her chickens, trying to shoo them into the coop, while I, with my hair braids bobbing in the air and my arms waving wildly, tried to be a big girl and help my aunt. Of course, the opposite was accomplished, I managed to scatter all the chickens again.

The second story is from after the war. My mother and I walked several miles to the next village to visit a farming family she knew. Of course, now I realize that such visits were always timed perfectly with some farm activity that would gain us food. My mother had a sixth sense for such occasions. This time the farmer's wife also gave my mother an egg which she laid carefully on the top of whatever else she had gleaned. On the way home, I must have gotten too warm and took off my cardigan which my mother laid neatly on top of the egg in her shopping bag. Well, I think you can guess the end result. When we got home, I grabbed my cardigan from her bag and with it came flying out the egg which, of course, broke as it landed on the wooden floor. Disaster had struck! But we ate the egg anyways; it was carefully scraped off the floor and mother used it in some dish or another.




Now that I've told a couple of yarns about my childhood, comes some real yarn. I bought the roving at SOAR which was held this past Fall in Michigan and my daughter, Angie, spun it up for me. It is a silk/merino mix and spun up into a kind of light grayish, purplish blue blend. It will make a beautiful shawl, I think.

Knit on!

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