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Re: Re: Ciel
There are things I'm in the habit of thinking I could or should do... or want... and I have begun to question these things, and realize I really don't care to wrestle with some challenges any more, that once looked quite appealing. Windows close, birds fly off, or have come back to huddle under the warm stove, and no longer feel the yearning for the sky.
posted by
Ciel
on January 19, 2014 at 8:17 PM
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Re: Ciel
It does seem nightmarish somehow Ciel, but that is because it is the last thing I would want to do now. Ever get that feeling?
posted by
C_C_T
on January 18, 2014 at 8:58 AM
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Re:LL
I don't really feel the cold a lot , but it might be that the clothes are warmer these days. Or I am burning out.
posted by
C_C_T
on January 18, 2014 at 8:56 AM
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Re: Pat
Slurp slurp. don't get many of those these days Pat. Do you remember there was always a kind of warm smell emanating from the chicks. I remember it like one remembers a really good bottle of wine.
posted by
C_C_T
on January 18, 2014 at 8:53 AM
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Re: Adnohr
Nice to hear from you, it was nearly as exhausting as your job.
posted by
C_C_T
on January 18, 2014 at 8:49 AM
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I also enjoy your reminscing
and your powerful poetry!
posted by
Ciel
on January 18, 2014 at 8:06 AM
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now you just have to worry about you freezing
posted by
Lanetay
on January 18, 2014 at 6:50 AM
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Wow!
I can see a boy of fourteen or so hurrying to the depot with the box of chicks, for some reason there's snow underfoot, and gaslights making pools of visibility between blind spots. I remember mother hanging a 75-watt bulb over the incubator, how much fun it was to see cracks appear in the eggs and wet chicks emerge and become fluff balls. And the poem: perfect with the memory. A big wet kiss on the forehead for this one, CCT.
posted by
Pat_B
on January 18, 2014 at 5:56 AM
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Great poem! ANd love hearing these flashes from the past. Our way of doing things sure has changed.
posted by
adnohr
on January 18, 2014 at 3:47 AM
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Re:
I am sure she tended to them carefully some of those early heaters use paraffin and one had to keep the wicks trimmed or they would smoke and poor little chickies suffocate.
posted by
C_C_T
on January 17, 2014 at 11:58 PM
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Re: Taps
Well it eventually went up to three thousand, but I had help then as we sold most on rounds.
posted by
C_C_T
on January 17, 2014 at 11:53 PM
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Re:
Cheers FS your shout I think.
posted by
C_C_T
on January 17, 2014 at 11:50 PM
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Re: CCT
I know Naut but on cold Winter's days when one had to drink a glass in most country pubs one served, they did not waste money on lighting fires until evening.
posted by
C_C_T
on January 17, 2014 at 11:49 PM
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CCT
Here we have one of the main differences between Britain and North America - you like your beer heated with a poker, we like ours dead cold...And I love the poem...
posted by
Nautikos
on January 17, 2014 at 9:04 PM
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It is interesting to read of how things were in the past...A great job with the imagery in the poem.
posted by
FormerStudentIntern
on January 17, 2014 at 8:06 PM
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Very interesting poem.
When I was a child, I had to help sis collect eggs from 25 hens and I thought that was a big deal.
posted by
TAPS.
on January 17, 2014 at 7:11 PM
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That poem could become a song...and I remeber Mother keeping chicks and turkey chiocks under the heater. Most of them would live. Very cute when they were small.
posted by
Kabu
on January 17, 2014 at 3:31 PM
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