Fleur-de-Followup

Good Rainy Morning,

It's too wet to go into the field, so I'm reviewing email responses to the meaning of the saying: "A hen doesn't cackle before she lays the egg."

Mara, Valerie, Karen and Wendy interpret it to mean: "Don't boast until you've accomplished your objective."  Along that same line, Joanne said, "Don't brag until you do the deed" and Debra wrote, "Don't brag about something until you know it's a sure thing."

Rich looked at the quote from a slightly different perspective, "Don't celebrate before the work is done", as did Sandy: "One shouldn't brag about their impending wealth if one hopes to keep it." And, Christine takes it to mean, "The lull before the storm."

Sometimes we look too deeply into simple things. What bothers me in the saying is the word "cackle". To me, it is more of a derogatory sound, i.e.  The witch cackled, "My pretty one." Often, I'll hear the hens on the hill cackling when a red-tail hawk swoops overhead. They make a ruckus and head for shelter. But when it comes to laying eggs, I think hens make more of a contented "clucking" sound.

I'll end with thoughts from Ruth: "The hen doesn't celebrate (or brag) until she's done the job. We know as well not to count our chickens until they've hatched. It's interesting how many of these sayings go back to our farming past." Ah, the words and world of farming, such a fascinating place. Laurie Lynch

Fleur-de-GloriousRain

Early Saturday morning two-thirds of the very unofficial Kutztown Walking Club faced the dawn through a veil of drizzle, the first precipitation we had felt in weeks. Soon, the drizzle turned into pelting monster raindrops, and at one point, as we turned a corner, we even felt a chill – something sincerely welcome after days of 90+-degree temperatures.

When we got to the end of our soggy jaunt, Laurel said she couldn’t remember having such a good time on a walk, It reminded her of being a kid, playing in the rain with absolute abandon. It reminded me of “Reilly Loop”, a 5.2-mile course Paul and I used to run in State College. Reilly Loop was named after Bill Reilly, a Penn State distance runner who competed in the 1968 Mexico City Olympics. One day the final leg of our run ended in a deliciously soft rain, washing away our cares and our sweat, transporting us into a magical, otherworld experience. The memory of that run and rain became such a strong one that it resurfaced years later. In 1992 our son was born on my father Richard’s 70^th birthday. Paul and I named the babe Richard Reilly Lynch.

Treasure each day and each memory, Laurie Lynch

Plants Loved It: If humans, who can walk in and out of air conditioning and drink cool water at will, appreciated Saturday’s rain, imagine how the plants felt! We recorded 2.5 inches in our water gauge and I swear several droopy-looking pepper plants actually came back to life.

Special Thanks: To Lenore for helping a farmwoman duel with weeds and worries on Sunday.

At Fleur-de-Lys Farm Market This Week: Poona Kheera and Pickles cucumbers, Verte et Blanc scallop (French heirloom from the 1800s), Zephyr, and Italiano Largo summer squash, German White garlic, rainbow chard, new potatoes, kale, eggs, honey, dill, basil, parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. (Apologies to S&G.)

In the News Last Week: Our friendly Cooperative Extension Director shared a July 8 Wall Street Journal article entitled “Fowl Fans See Golden Eggs in Catering to Pet-Chicken Market”. It seems that people have become so enamored with pet chickens that all sorts of businesses are cropping up – chicken diapers (so your chicken can live in the house), chicken saddles (to protect hens from frisky roosters), and even chicken costumes (stars and stripes for July 4 and Prince Charming and Cinderella for Halloween). Why, there is even a Chicken Whisperer who hosts a daily hour-long Internet radio show on raising backyard chickens. But the best quote came from the founder of the site BackYardChickens.com, Rob Ludlow, who said chickens “are the only backyard pet that can make you breakfast.” I have to remember that one.

Written on Slate: This space is usually reserved for favorite quotes that I’ve painted on slates and sell at the shop. This week’s is a little different. I found an old saying, but I just can’t figure out what it means. Maybe it is the residual heat on my brain or a mid-50s meltdown. I need some help. Here is the saying: “A hen doesn’t cackle before she lays the egg.” If you can see the wisdom better than I, please send it along.