We had a second feast this evening--this time with mom as cook. We invited Grandpa and Grandma and some friends over. My friend Margi, the eagle biologist, was there.
Grandpa told her about a time, some eighty years ago, when he found an injured golden eagle and put it in a wooden crate. Then he went down to the creek and caught frogs for it to eat. After about twenty helpings the eagle was so full that frogs started climbing back out of its mouth. At some later date, the eagle escaped and crawled into the chicken coop and slaughtered some hens, at which point Grandpa's dad (my great-grandpa), Christ Sand, riddled the hard-luck raptor with lead. I wanted to work Christ somewhere into this entry. Great-grandpa Christ, by the way, was a Christian Scientist cowboy who lived a good long life. If you scroll down to the December 10th entry, you'll see a photo of him standing next to my dad and me.
2 comments:
Chris,
Just wanted to make sure you knew that the "Golden Eagle" crate or ad label is from our neighboring town of Placentia, CA. Remember where we ate Mexican food in the old bar? Standing on the front steps of the "301" you could throw an orange and hit the packing house. Maybe we can go back and check out our arms and the food in a couple of weeks. Love to your mom and dad and especially big hugs to Uncle Bob and Aunt Edna.
XOXOXO,
jo
Hi Jo,
I must've subconsciously known that, 'cause when I saw that image, it jumped out at me! I'll send your love up the Sand ladder.
Love, Chris
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