“Wendy” – I was pinged by instant chat from one of my friends. “Do you still collect chicken stuff?”
Asking if I still collect chicken stuff is akin to asking if the proverbial bear still does what he needs to do in the woods.
“Yes”, I replied, absolutely, “what’s up?”
“You’ve got to check these out”, she wrote as she sent a link to a set of salt and pepper shakers on eBay.
Normally I’m not a salt and pepper shaker kind of gal. I tend to like the oh-so-practical (and hardly breakable – important when you have a tribe of kids at the dinner table) industrially-heavy glass shakers normally found in restaurants. And besides, a lot of chicken salt and pepper shakers are downright creepy, I just don’t particularly enjoy anthropomorphized ceramic chicks.
I clicked on the link fully expecting to see tiny helplessly abandoned chicks in a nest, or a pink-ribboned decapitated chick head for salt looking forlornly at a blue-hatted chick head for pepper.
Instead what I saw was a veritable piece of art.
Named “Miss Overachiever” the shakers depicted a disheveled hen loudly singing the praises of her oversized egg accomplishment. OMG – how many days have I felt like doing this about one of my feats which I had thought impossible, the birth of my children, getting hired by DEC, having my first article published.
And how many times have I instead kept quiet, demure, ladylike certain that others would find my self-pride annoying and unbecoming. Ladies just don’t crow.
This I had to own. I wanted to place her near my computer to be my muse, my chick, my reminder of what I could, under the right circumstances, be capable of. I clicked on the “Buy It Now” button. Miss Overachiever now sits on the shelf near where I write, a constant reminder of possibilities and the joy there is in acknowledging a job well done.