Bitchin’ Wives Club regular, Karen of Hollywood Farm was the lucky winner of the Oxfam coffee growers co-op $50 gift. Congrats, Karen! If you are struggling with any last minute presents, please keep Oxfam’s collection of charitable gifts in mind. They are easy to buy and can make a world of difference to someone living in a poverty-stricken section of the world.
Unfortunately, I have terribly sad news to report concerning one of the models in the country photo shoot… Henny Penny, the gorgeous red and black beauty I posed with, was snatched by a fox two nights ago and certainly became its dinner.
In addition to being a lovely, fat chicken who was a champion egg-layer, Henny Penny had the distinction of being the last of “granny’s chickens.” I want to cry just writing this, but will continue: Henny Penny’s keeper is an adorable seven-year-old little girl whose grandmother passed away last year, leaving behind a flock of chickens that she has cared for and added to since. Henny Penny was the last of that original flock from Grandma.
As someone who cried when the handle irreparably broke on a pot that had belonged to my grandmother, forcing me to finally throw it away (this was after using it with duct tape on the handle for several years and a full ten years after her passing), I empathize completely with the pain Henny Penny’s family is feeling right now.
I still have some treasured items of my grandparents that I see almost every day and remind me of them in the most affectionate way.
Like the egg whisk that came from my grandfather’s house. I never saw him eating scrambled eggs, so I always associate the smell of white toast and cinnamon sugar with him (and the eggbeater, by association). He wasn’t a big eater, so when we arrived after a long day driving to his house, we were always met with the only food options available for breakfast when we awoke the next day: Pepperidge Farm Extra Thin White Bread, butter, cinnamon sugar (in a diamond-etched glass jar with a rusty lid that had holes poked through it some 30 years earlier), and 7-Up.
Or the cutting board/serving tray from my grandmother’s. I imagine her slicing a roast in her kitchen back in Chicago every time I use it. Sometimes wandering, in my mind, from the kitchen to the back porch where I’d sit on the porch swing and follow the fence-line with my eyes, trying to discern what kind of vegetables or flowers were growing in the beds that lined it. I see her licking her thumb and forefinger clean and then saying, “Amy, will you please go get the potato salad from the refrigerator?”
I miss my grandparents so much.
Do you have any sentimental items that you use all the time in your daily routine, too? Are you as fearful of them breaking as I am, but unable to stop using them, either, because you love how they remind you of the person who owned it before?