TIME TO PUT ALL OUR EGGS IN ONE BASKET AND CALL IT, DECEMBER
Cracked!
The silly season is upon us — it’s a cracking good time of the year
I stared at Yoddle with pained eyes.
“Grief! No wonder I lost all my bum feathers trying to get you out! You’re a big ‘un!”
Yoddle blinked his big blue eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry, Mama.” He thought for a moment. “Did I come out of your bum? I thought …”
“Never mind. Where you came from is inconsequential, it’s where you’re going that I’m concerned about.” I scratched my foot feverishly in the dirt. How was I going to break it to the kid?
“You’re not right, you know.” Statement, not a question.
“Why, Mama?” Yoddle’s eyes were blinking like car indicators. Left right, left right. He staggered a little, almost toppling in the dirt.
“Stop it!” I admonished. “You’re making yourself dizzy!”
I drew a deep breath and began. “You’re only half-baked. You’re supposed to have feathers, not a shell. Truthfully, you are a shell with a beak and legs and that’s not right in the scheme of chickens and eggs.”
A big salty tear formed in Yoddle’s left eye and slid down his slightly cracked casing. “Wow,” he exclaimed, wiping frantically at his tummy. “That really smarts!”
“I’m sorry I’m not quite right, Mama. Can you love me, anyway?”
I bent and examined my offspring carefully. He was kind of cute and he seemed lucid enough. For sure, being half-baked would probably save him from winding up on the Christmas dinner table in later months. Who was to say that he wasn’t the first in a new chain of evolution.
A surge of pride and love swelled my heart.
Raising a wing, I wrapped it protectively around my baby, Yoddle.
“Of course, Mama loves her big boy! Who is to say what the future holds nor who will crow the loudest in the new dawn.”
Yoddle drew a happy shuddering breath, cuddled beneath my protective feathers.
“What noise does a half-baked Yoddle make, Mama?”
“I have no idea but when the time comes, I am sure it will be unique. Any cockle do, as long as it’s from you.”
“Sit on me, Mama,” Yoddle sighed as he settled in for his afternoon nap.
We can see a thousand miracles around us every day. What is more supernatural than an egg yolk turning into a chicken? S. Parkes Cadman
The RvR Holiday Notification
From Saturday the 16th of December 2023 (Brisbane Std Time) until Tuesday 2nd of January 2024 (BST), we will be closed for submissions. We hope you will join us in this opportunity to reset and refresh before hurtling into another busy year.
I will be posting for Christmas on Friday 15th December — of course, Jaylee and I will continue reading and responding until we open the pub for the New Year.
November Roundup
Our awesome submissions are something to crow about. We truly appreciate the effort you have put into your posts and gorgeous header images.
Patricia Jeanne Granny Wanted by Cybercriminals and Detective Spade
Sinus Kosinus Time and Again and A Collection of Female Poets
John Hansen The Horse and the Elephant, Just a Bit of Nonsense and Just a Bit More Nonsense
Now that we’ve arranged all our ducks in a row, check out this lovely gif supplied by Jaylee. 🦆🦆🦆🦆
“Four ducks on a pond, a grass-bank beyond, a blue sky of spring, white clouds on the wing — what a little thing to remember for years, to remember with tears!” — William Allingham
That’s it for November. Sending best wishes for a safe and productive, December, filled with happy holiday preparations.
Lotsa Love
Raine 💙💦 & Jaylee·˚🌷დ
