At first, when I heard her, I shook my head in disbelief. I was stunned. Did I just hear her right, I thought. I shut the door behind me and inside told Jeff, “I just heard a hen cackling. You know what that means. Do you think they are laying again?”
“Well it is about time, girls,” I told them, then winked with a smile. I couldn’t be happier. She cackled even louder now as if to say, Look what I’ve done; try and top that. I ran back to the house with an egg in each hand and with the delights of living on a farm and gathering my own eggs again.
We lived in a two story farm house on St. Rt. 286. In the Kodak moment, Mom slides from her cast- iron skillet, a couple over-easy eggs onto Daddy’s plate. After some salt and pepper, he dips the edge of his buttered biscuit in the yolk. He was usually reading the News Democrat newspaper at the same time, searching the classifieds to find his listing for the feeder pigs he had For Sale. I was sitting to his left on the corner of the farmhouse table, watching him intently.
After the egg yolk was gone, Daddy smashed the remaining eggs with his fork and finished it. Next, he put a huge pat of butter on his plate. After pouring honey over it he whipped it with his fork, then spread it all over his biscuit; hardly taking his eye off the newspaper and sometimes reading out-loud while doing so. A man of many talents. I followed his lead and did exactly as he did.
That moment in time is ingrained in my mind. A smile always comes to my face when I recall this, which is just about every time I dip my bread in my egg yolk or we have the honey jar out.
So here’s the thing, animals talk. The rooster crows, Time to get up and get your day started, the hen cackles Look what I’ve done; try and top that. And for us humans, we talk all the time, sometimes with words, other times with actions but our memories last a life time and you just never know, when you might be making a lasting memory.