I am no spring chicken, and I thought I had covered a lot of linguistic ground with my blog post about chicken idioms. But I guess I had just been a little cocky, crowing about all those words. Just as a fox should never be left to guard a henhouse, you clever readers reminded me I shouldn’t be allowed to monopolize any linguistic territory. In fact, your missives revealed I had just scratched the surface. One good egg even corrected my spelling, which made me about as mad as a wet hen. Just a little more evidence that I don’t rule the roost.
Since you were all so gracious in sharing your chicken chat I didn’t feel henpecked. So I am going to ask you all to write back to me if you have experience or ideas for me to ponder. But I am not putting all of my eggs in one basket. Sure as a rooster announces the rising sun, I am moving on to another topic, cross cultural marriages between Indians and Americans or between Pakistanis and Americans.
I just spent a long weekend in Northern California with a few of my husband’s Punjabi relatives – maybe 40 or 45 aunties, uncles, cousins, nieces and nephews related through various degrees of marriage and blood. So I am thinking a lot about the mixing of great global flocks (as an aside – a distant cousin really did experience a chicken tragedy: a flock of 32 chickens eaten over the course of three days by a hungry coyote). If you have any friends who are not from South Asian origins, but have married into South Asian families, I would appreciate an introduction. I am interested in comparing experiences. Then maybe I can hatch a post that has more to do with bangra and basmati than chickens and eggs.