Finishing the dishes, I looked out the kitchen window. Cheddar was beside
Mac's grave, talking, seemingly to herself. I pulled the garbage sack and
headed for the outside bins.
"Good morning Cheddar."
"Thank you."
On my way back I found her beside the Himalayan plant--can't recall its
name. I was thinking of bringing up the fact that the chickens seem to
have eaten every leaf on Mac's memorial bush. Cheddar pre-empted, "Thank
you."
You're welcome," I said.
"Oh I wasn't thanking you," Cheddar explained. "I already did you."
"Who were you thanking?"
"This plant, giver of berries."
"Very good," I said. "Where are the other chickens?"
"I thanked them...several times. They moved away. Gratitude is apparently
not to their liking."
"Bit churlish," I offered. "Next thing you know they'll be seizing
government buildings."
"I'd have difficulty thanking them for that."
"I should think you would. Is that your goal then, to give thanks?"
"Whenever and wherever opportunity arises. It's my..."
"...New Year's Resolution?"
"Precisely."
I returned to the kitchen, leaving her to thank in peace.
We left before the snow. The caretaker gods are from Yale, so they know
all about defending the house--in regard to locks anyway-- and looking
after chickens and so on, which is excellent. Since then I've been
swimming in warm water and climbing the volcano, which is active,
sulfurous. In the ocean I was minding my own business, drifting gently in
the shallows, letting my hand dangle, when up came this small fish.
"Breeeeeeead?"
People feed the fish hereabouts. Which makes fish chicken-like. Slightly.
E. was reading something on a package, "A faithful heart makes wishes come
true."
I said, "Crackers."
"Meaning?"
"Sounds like what you'd find in a Christmas Cracker or a fortune cookie."
She said, "A trust fund makes a faithful heart unnecessary."
"Too right mate," I replied, wondering if she was hinting.
I might offer a "Perspectives on Society and Culture" seminar titled,
"Comparative Treachery." One week here is Robert the Bruce inviting his
rivals to a conference in a church, overpowering them and hanging all from
the rafters. Next comes Kamehameha inviting the guy with whom he's been at
war for nine years to a peace conference, to be held in conjunction with
the dedication of a temple of sacrifice. The mystery is that not only did
his rival show up, he came with a greatly reduced retinue. Surprise,
surprise, he turned out to be the star of the dedication ceremony. My
latest reading suggested that the ex-general's decision was influenced by
losing a third of his army to a volcanic eruption. When the gods are agin
you, it may be time to put your head on the block.
There are wild chickens on the island. Could it be that one gave that
fellow counsel, from behind a burning bush? "Yeah verily, I say unto you,
general, go visit your cousin. Get on a boat. Paddle, paddle, paddle.
Your worries will be over." A chicken in the pay of Kamehameha?
David Ritchie,
Portland, Oregon
On Sat, Jan 2, 2016 at 8:19 PM, Emily Ritchie <emily.c.ritchie@xxxxxxxxx>
wrote:
fish acting like a chicken, asking for bread
" a faithful heart makes wishes come true" or a rich uncle makes the whole
thing unnecessary (trust fund)
christmas crackers-
gratitude diary
--
*Emily Ritchie*
