Tuesday, November 25, 2003
Eggsplanations and apologies are in order for a Scratchless week. Hatchburg’s beloved dog Sullivan passed. Del Fabro ordered flags at half staff and the Hatchburg Press shut down. Songbirds cried and placed feathers on Sullivan’s grave.
This week’s message to George W. Bush (from Juliet ) is: Dear George, get thyself to a soldier’s funeral. Look up symbol in the dictionary and get Dick to explain it to you. Fox News will cover your appearance. Don’t wear your flight suit.
In Geneva, New York, del Fabro fell in love with the crescent moon, svelte in the morning ink, as the sun rose like a you-know-what over Lake Seneca. She said oh to the space where blue meets blue and it was a good morning for mourning the turkeys of the world. Also in Geneva, Henrietta and Lorna gave a five-peck salute to Brooklyn’s Julia James of Hobart William Smith College for winning a 2004 Rhodes Scholarship.
Hatchburg’s holiday season opens not with Thanksgiving but with Miss Abigail’s birthday party on the 27th. Rumor has it that she will be wearing yet another new dress and her Ralph Lauren black patent slip-ons. Fashion editors will camp outside her door at 9 Juniper to see what’s “in” for the holidays. Abby sets the tone for Deirdre’s fashion column in the Hatchburg Times. The hipster that she is, Abby invited Meiway to perform at her party. He accepted (avec plaiser) and will play her favorite song: Le dernier siècle.
Gabriella’s annual Literally Yours party starts at 8PM on Saturday. She will serve del Fabros with corn chip accompaniment, and will read John Cheever’s “Christmas is a Sad Season for the Poor.”
Henniway you look at it, this week, some turkeys have to die. Rosie and Rosetta are making Thanksgiving dinner at the Roasted Corn and, as usual, they are serving an eggceptional meal. They plan a corny menu of roasted corn, cranberry corn bread, corn pudding, bowls of popcorn to peck and corn whiskey made from Rusty’s secret recipe.
Happy Thanksgiving to all loyal Scratch readers, and go easy on the tacchino.
This week’s message to George W. Bush (from Juliet ) is: Dear George, get thyself to a soldier’s funeral. Look up symbol in the dictionary and get Dick to explain it to you. Fox News will cover your appearance. Don’t wear your flight suit.
In Geneva, New York, del Fabro fell in love with the crescent moon, svelte in the morning ink, as the sun rose like a you-know-what over Lake Seneca. She said oh to the space where blue meets blue and it was a good morning for mourning the turkeys of the world. Also in Geneva, Henrietta and Lorna gave a five-peck salute to Brooklyn’s Julia James of Hobart William Smith College for winning a 2004 Rhodes Scholarship.
Hatchburg’s holiday season opens not with Thanksgiving but with Miss Abigail’s birthday party on the 27th. Rumor has it that she will be wearing yet another new dress and her Ralph Lauren black patent slip-ons. Fashion editors will camp outside her door at 9 Juniper to see what’s “in” for the holidays. Abby sets the tone for Deirdre’s fashion column in the Hatchburg Times. The hipster that she is, Abby invited Meiway to perform at her party. He accepted (avec plaiser) and will play her favorite song: Le dernier siècle.
Gabriella’s annual Literally Yours party starts at 8PM on Saturday. She will serve del Fabros with corn chip accompaniment, and will read John Cheever’s “Christmas is a Sad Season for the Poor.”
Henniway you look at it, this week, some turkeys have to die. Rosie and Rosetta are making Thanksgiving dinner at the Roasted Corn and, as usual, they are serving an eggceptional meal. They plan a corny menu of roasted corn, cranberry corn bread, corn pudding, bowls of popcorn to peck and corn whiskey made from Rusty’s secret recipe.
Happy Thanksgiving to all loyal Scratch readers, and go easy on the tacchino.
Monday, November 10, 2003
Henniway you look at it, this week’s news makes tail feathers quiver. The view at the Roasted Corn is that Bush and Cheney laid an egg in Iraq. What inquiring chicks want to know is: Did anyone tell George about Saddam’s offer to avert the war?
Good news for representatives of the utility industry (some of George’s biggest campaign donors): Thanks to the ever hard working Dick Cheney (is he the Vice President?) we now have the Mostly Clean Air Act or the Slightly Toxic Partially Dirty Air Act. Not to worry, the new looser rules are cost-effective. Glamour Girl wants to know how increased harmful emissions will affect her anti-aging regimen. She wrote in her diary, “George Bush and his puppeteers have fouled my nest.”
Good news for abortion opponents: George says the nation “owes its children a different and better welcome.” So he signed the Partial Birth Abortion Ban Act. Never mind clean air, funds for school lunch programs, health benefits, and never mind the Constitution. Hatchburg chicks say this is just plain chicken feces. The Dean Dozen will take to the streets winged with the photograph of George signing the Ban, surrounded by 10 white men.
Del Fabro’s favorite New York Times headline of the week: "C.I.A. Needs to Learn Arabic, House Committee Leader Says." She cut the article out and pasted in on her kitchen wall. It is, as Bush would say, a cost-effective way of getting a good laugh.
Saturday night, Henrietta threw an eclipse open house. Rusty took out the 1950 fire truck, blew the siren down Main Street, and gave rides to 22 Béarnaise Place. Hatchburgians pressed their tails against Henrietta’s fence and looked up over the oaks to the night sky on the east side of Henrietta’s property. The moon mooned them, and turned the color of a sunny side up.
The four Rs (Rosie, Rosetta, Rosaria and Rusty) made a post-eclipse dinner. They started off with Rosetta Cocktails and then pecked away at Del Fabro’s Domenica Sera Pasta. Don and Johnny left early feeling hot and spicy. Juliet said it was an endorphin raiser and Rosie said she would make it a Sunday night special at the Roasted Corn.
Eloise is still on the South Beach Diet so she skipped Henrietta’s dinner party and went to see The Station Agent. She will not give hentails but she said “cross the road to see this one.” At the movies, she ate a large popcorn with imitation butter and hated herself afterwards. When she got back to her coop, she took a Pepcid AC, got into bed and had impure thoughts about Bobby Cannavale.
Good news for representatives of the utility industry (some of George’s biggest campaign donors): Thanks to the ever hard working Dick Cheney (is he the Vice President?) we now have the Mostly Clean Air Act or the Slightly Toxic Partially Dirty Air Act. Not to worry, the new looser rules are cost-effective. Glamour Girl wants to know how increased harmful emissions will affect her anti-aging regimen. She wrote in her diary, “George Bush and his puppeteers have fouled my nest.”
Good news for abortion opponents: George says the nation “owes its children a different and better welcome.” So he signed the Partial Birth Abortion Ban Act. Never mind clean air, funds for school lunch programs, health benefits, and never mind the Constitution. Hatchburg chicks say this is just plain chicken feces. The Dean Dozen will take to the streets winged with the photograph of George signing the Ban, surrounded by 10 white men.
Del Fabro’s favorite New York Times headline of the week: "C.I.A. Needs to Learn Arabic, House Committee Leader Says." She cut the article out and pasted in on her kitchen wall. It is, as Bush would say, a cost-effective way of getting a good laugh.
Saturday night, Henrietta threw an eclipse open house. Rusty took out the 1950 fire truck, blew the siren down Main Street, and gave rides to 22 Béarnaise Place. Hatchburgians pressed their tails against Henrietta’s fence and looked up over the oaks to the night sky on the east side of Henrietta’s property. The moon mooned them, and turned the color of a sunny side up.
The four Rs (Rosie, Rosetta, Rosaria and Rusty) made a post-eclipse dinner. They started off with Rosetta Cocktails and then pecked away at Del Fabro’s Domenica Sera Pasta. Don and Johnny left early feeling hot and spicy. Juliet said it was an endorphin raiser and Rosie said she would make it a Sunday night special at the Roasted Corn.
Eloise is still on the South Beach Diet so she skipped Henrietta’s dinner party and went to see The Station Agent. She will not give hentails but she said “cross the road to see this one.” At the movies, she ate a large popcorn with imitation butter and hated herself afterwards. When she got back to her coop, she took a Pepcid AC, got into bed and had impure thoughts about Bobby Cannavale.
Monday, November 03, 2003
Henniway you look at it, it has been a sad week in Hatchburg. On a scale of one to ten, it was minus ten. First, the fiasco in Collingswood, New Jersey, and then the latest tragedy in Iraq.
In Collingswood, after a neighbor called the police, four boys were rescued from starvation and abuse. Rusty built a big bonfire in support of the boys and Rosetta organized a candlelight vigil. While they marched through Hatchburg. chicks and roosters sang "We Shall Overcome." They ended their procession at 22 Bearnaise Place, where Rusty made another bonfire and Henrietta took donations of toys and clothing for the children. All hens and roosters kept their chicklettes close to their wings. Deirdre volunteered to send an ophthalmologist to The Southern Adoption Resource Center to check the vision of all workers who had visited the Jackson home, and Juliet will send a psychiatrist. The Hatchburg consensus is that the workers were blind, crazy or both not to have noticed that a 19-year-old who weighed 45 pounds, and was 4 feet tall, was underweight.
Geneva sent a note to Donald Rumsfeld: Dear Don, what do you mean “It’s been a bad day?” (Referring to Sunday’s downed helicopter, fifteen soldiers confirmed dead, and many injured at press time.) How about, “It’s a dark, dark day.” Or, “It’s a national tragedy.” I think the families of the victims deserve more from you than a “this is war/business as usual” comment. Go take a dose of empathy with a glass of anti-arrogance on the side. I am voting for the Doctor. Sincerely yours, Geneva Medbury.
Friday, on All Souls Day, Rosie and Rosetta packed dinners in wicker picnic baskets lined with French linens from Geneva’s Linens and Straw and everyone headed out to Hatchburg’s Highland cemetery. Henrietta passed out candles and baby red roses and everyone partied with the dead. On Saturday, Rosie featured an All Saints dinner at the Roasted Corn. She served loaves and fishes, milk, honey, raisins and wine. Dessert was on Rosie, and she made her scrumptious caramel cake with caramel frosting. Hatchburgians sat around and on the counter, and shared memories of their dear dead chickens.
Rosaria remembered the days her family made grape juice in her Aunt Josephine’s kitchen and how her aunt squeezed the last bit of juice from the cheesecloth-wrapped grapes.
Juilet said she missed her father’s happy face the first time he water-skied on Barnegat Bay, and afterwards, how the salt water dripped down his legs as he stood on the dock.
Eloise talked about her grandfather Santo, and how on summer nights he would pay her a quarter to sit still in a lawn chair and not say a word.
Rusty left during the cake and memories, and went out to the back of the Roasted Corn to get control of his emotions. Two years ago he lost his entire family to a Junior League chicken barbecue. Sometimes the smell of a fire brings it all back. He found Glamour Girl sitting on the back steps of the Roasted Corn smoking a cigarette. She offered Rusty a Newport Light, and he took one.
Henniway you look at, it this is the time of year to be in Hatchburg. The maples and sassafras are letting go of their rubies and amber. The soybean fields on the edge of town are toasted gold and under the crescent moon, you can watch the woodchucks taking their final strolls of the season. If you stop by the Roasted Corn, the blue plate special is vegetarian mixed grains garnished with fresh figs. Feathers Or Not has an autumn two-for-one special on wing plucking and comb dye.
In Collingswood, after a neighbor called the police, four boys were rescued from starvation and abuse. Rusty built a big bonfire in support of the boys and Rosetta organized a candlelight vigil. While they marched through Hatchburg. chicks and roosters sang "We Shall Overcome." They ended their procession at 22 Bearnaise Place, where Rusty made another bonfire and Henrietta took donations of toys and clothing for the children. All hens and roosters kept their chicklettes close to their wings. Deirdre volunteered to send an ophthalmologist to The Southern Adoption Resource Center to check the vision of all workers who had visited the Jackson home, and Juliet will send a psychiatrist. The Hatchburg consensus is that the workers were blind, crazy or both not to have noticed that a 19-year-old who weighed 45 pounds, and was 4 feet tall, was underweight.
Geneva sent a note to Donald Rumsfeld: Dear Don, what do you mean “It’s been a bad day?” (Referring to Sunday’s downed helicopter, fifteen soldiers confirmed dead, and many injured at press time.) How about, “It’s a dark, dark day.” Or, “It’s a national tragedy.” I think the families of the victims deserve more from you than a “this is war/business as usual” comment. Go take a dose of empathy with a glass of anti-arrogance on the side. I am voting for the Doctor. Sincerely yours, Geneva Medbury.
Friday, on All Souls Day, Rosie and Rosetta packed dinners in wicker picnic baskets lined with French linens from Geneva’s Linens and Straw and everyone headed out to Hatchburg’s Highland cemetery. Henrietta passed out candles and baby red roses and everyone partied with the dead. On Saturday, Rosie featured an All Saints dinner at the Roasted Corn. She served loaves and fishes, milk, honey, raisins and wine. Dessert was on Rosie, and she made her scrumptious caramel cake with caramel frosting. Hatchburgians sat around and on the counter, and shared memories of their dear dead chickens.
Rosaria remembered the days her family made grape juice in her Aunt Josephine’s kitchen and how her aunt squeezed the last bit of juice from the cheesecloth-wrapped grapes.
Juilet said she missed her father’s happy face the first time he water-skied on Barnegat Bay, and afterwards, how the salt water dripped down his legs as he stood on the dock.
Eloise talked about her grandfather Santo, and how on summer nights he would pay her a quarter to sit still in a lawn chair and not say a word.
Rusty left during the cake and memories, and went out to the back of the Roasted Corn to get control of his emotions. Two years ago he lost his entire family to a Junior League chicken barbecue. Sometimes the smell of a fire brings it all back. He found Glamour Girl sitting on the back steps of the Roasted Corn smoking a cigarette. She offered Rusty a Newport Light, and he took one.
Henniway you look at, it this is the time of year to be in Hatchburg. The maples and sassafras are letting go of their rubies and amber. The soybean fields on the edge of town are toasted gold and under the crescent moon, you can watch the woodchucks taking their final strolls of the season. If you stop by the Roasted Corn, the blue plate special is vegetarian mixed grains garnished with fresh figs. Feathers Or Not has an autumn two-for-one special on wing plucking and comb dye.
