Thursday, February 28, 2013

Good Eggs

I will admit it.  On more than one occasion, our children have helped give our family some visibility, as well as something for on-lookers to talk about.  This is even more true when we are all gathered in the same pew, for Pete's sake, but it also, redemptively,  includes some neat awards and accomplishments.

But our family has achieved another "FIRST", and I'm still processing the implications.

Kieran, our lovely, 6 foot/opera-quality voiced/ fashion-minded/ Broadway loving daughter, announced to us recently that she had made the Poultry Judging team and will attend the state competition as an alternate.

I laughed. A big ol' Belly laugh.
Long and loud.

And Kieran laughed with me.

See,  I grew up in Chicago suburbia.

For me, that meant every 5th house looked exactly the same.  Dads used edgers on their lawns so the manicured grass didn't creep up on the sidewalk.  Moms parked their station wagons in the garage so the kids could draw hopscotch and sky blue on the black sealed asphalt driveways.  Every yard had a swing set, and the trees had all been planted at the same time as the houses were built, so they all grew at the same rate.  They were little, like us.

My kids are getting an entirely different experience in Central Illinois.

Instead of Big Wheels, they are surrounded by John Deere tractors (and there's an official "Drive Your Tractor To School" day here... Really.)  Instead of trekking out to Jewel-Osco for a pound of hamburger, we run over to the local meat locker for some grass-fed beef, and the grass and beef are just as local.    Shoot, we don't even have a stop light in our town, so my kids can't fathom what it is to have a 10 mile/33 minute commute.

So, Kieran's news delighted me to my very core for the singular realization that my kids are NOT ME.
And through their experiences, I continue to have my world enlarged and enriched.

Who EVER would have thought I would be this close to caring about chicken parts and egg standards?
RTC carcass grading?  Sounds bad-ass to me.  3/16" air cells, pronounced ridges, thin albumen?  Not A-listers, for sure.

The teacher/advisor of this prestigious group is a little leery about my enthusiasm (even asking Kieran, "Oh, nuts.  Your mom's not the kind to want to BE THERE, is she?").  Oh yes... and I want a team promoting t-shirt too.  Where's my camera?

Winner winner, Chicken dinner!

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Please keep the stories of the Krenz family coming! Val