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Tuesday, February 26, 2013

CACKLE-BERRIES

I have a few memories that tickle my funny bone.

Where do you put 2 orphan eggs so they don't roll 
around and break? Good thinking Papa - in a berry box!

Like my father calling eggs, 'cackle-berries'.
And milk, 'moo-juice'.

Papa wanted some breakfast the other day.
He likes eggs.
We had just replaced the empty carton a day before.

I was in the other room and heard a crash.
I knew the sound. It is unique to eggs ...
I have dropped a dozen eggs.

Sometimes you only break a few.
He got all 8 left in the carton.
Lucky for him he had 2 on the counter already.

2 cracked eggs, clean in the carton still, were salvaged 
for French Toast. Papa had mostly scooped up most of 
the other 6 by the time  I thought to get the camera.

I showed him how to rescue 2 in severely 'cracked' shells.
I often drop things. It's my eyes. I have astigmatism and little depth perception.

He decided to have French Toast so we could save the 2 whole eggs. He put them in a recently emptied, blueberry container. I laughed! I had to tell you. And, no, I did not cackle! Especially like a chicken.  I  did insist he stop cleaning up while I got the camera though.

Cackle-berries!
This week I have 2 in my frig.




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