For this author, creative endeavors have been sorely tested by motherhood. But also transformed, and in ways she wouldn’t have imagined – couldn’t have, without her life “rewritten” as it has been, by her children. So linger here, to read all things weaverly, writerly and motherly.

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Wednesday, May 23, 2012

The Chicken in the House

This week's Trifecta challenge word is "wild"

Marge had a stray chicken in her yard. It was smart. It had found a hole in her lattice and slept in a safe haven beneath her deck.

The chicken had escape when her neighbor, Ted, died, and his kids sold his house, and the old hen house was razed. They'd donated the other chickens to some local farm. Leona evidently hadn't wanted to leave.


One morning, Leona was pecking at the screen door. Marge opened the door, and Leona marched in, assessed the place, then ate a crumb from Marge's breakfast granola bar off the worn linoleum floor.


Leona was polite, never made a mess in the house, and so Marge took to letting her sit on her kitchen table. They'd have breakfast together; Marge would share bits of granola from her bar, saving the chocolate coating for herself.

"Mom. Chickens need to be with their own kind," her daughter, Sam, had said when she told her about Leona.


"I am her own kind," Marge said. In the old neighborhood where house ownership was turning over as fast as she could flip her precooked chicken nuggets six minutes through their baking time, she was out of her element, and she identified with the chicken.


She didn't tell her daughter about letting the chicken sit on the table – Sam would think her aged mother had finally tipped over into the deranged.


But having a chicken in the house made Marge feel a little wild, and that was different from deranged. She felt wild in a way she hadn't since before she'd become so arthritic. When she was actually more who she'd always been. Someone who might, and once did, as a young woman, ride a horse down a mountain in a thunderstorm. When being wild was intriguing if not downright sexy.


So Marge felt wild and a little sexy sharing granola bars with a chicken, even chicken nuggets, getting a kick out of the fact that Leona had no clue she eating her own kind.


 

 

16 comments:

Corinne said...

This is hilarious, Sandra. I love the chicken nuggets bit - absolutely wild! ;)

humor after 50 said...

I loved it! Made me chuckle giving me incentive! Thank you.

Annabelle said...

That's great -- we all need to be just a little wild from time to time. I like how she identified with the chicken and just decided to go with it.

Shawna said...

Your last paragraph is hilarious.

Gina said...

I'm glad old mama found some wild time again even if it was just with Leona. Loved Leona nibbling on chick nugs! We all need to find some wild every now and then.

Kathy said...

That is funny! Wonderful story!

Kathy
http://gigglingtruckerswife.blogspot.com

jannatwrites said...

Oh my, feeding Leona her kin? That's just wrong! Funny, but wrong :)

birdiesiview said...

house ownership was turning over as fast as she could flip her precooked chicken nuggets six minutes through their baking time, What a great line. Says so much. I also like the part about not telling her daughter she let the chicken sit on the table. I have a few chickens on the table, myself. This is really, really good.

Jester Queen said...

I love these stories. I went back to read about Marge and Ted so that I knew the chicken showed up at the end of the last story. She's hilarious. Just hilarious. I love the old lady feeding the chicken some chicken (makes me think of the Twilight Zone episode where the chickens have been trained to eat people) and letting it sit on her table. I like this old lady.

mywordwall said...

This is both hilarious and poignant, Sandra. You have made a picture about aging, being alone, and everyday life very well. :-)

~Imelda

Journey of Life said...

Like this. It totally changed my perspective on chicken ...

peekingunderdoors said...

This is poignant and funny st the same time. I hope my mind can keep my creativity in the face of aging. When I get there that is. :)

Lynn Proctor said...

very sweet--a chicken--who knew!

Amy Morgan said...

This was delightful - loved the wild vs deranged! Made me laugh right out loud!

Diane Turner said...

This is hilarious and bittersweet. You've included so many great lines here. I am her own kind, ...where house ownership was turning over as fast as she could flip her precooked chicken nuggets... and ...Leona had no clue she was eating her own kind. there's something a little off about that last one. Funny, yes, but...
Nicely written.

Trifecta said...

I love the way she finds a kinship with this polite animal and, at the same time, remembers her youth, her true self by her relationship with it.
Thanks for playing. Please come back tomorrow for the new prompt.

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