TERRE HAUTE — We were playing the weekend game at the Sports Center recently. Ben was pointing out to me the several fundraiser dinners which would get me off the hook on food preparation for the weekend. There were fish fries and, his favorite, a chicken-and-noodles feeding frenzy.
Alas, as I explained to Ben, I haven’t been able to face a plate of chicken and noodles since I had my tonsils out when I was 12.
It’s a long and sad story. Actually, it was my brother, Ed, who had infected tonsils, but the doctor figured I would need a tonsillectomy sooner or later, so both Ed and I were checked in for the grand opening. Since Yorkville was some 12 miles from the hospital, it was decided that we would overnight at the hospital and undergo an inspection before being checked out.
Anyway, Dad and Mom arrived to take us home the next morning. Lunch was waiting in a big pot on the stove, but before digging into lunch I wanted to run to the chicken yard to check on Rosie, my pet chicken. I could explain the significance of “Rosie” as a name, but that would unnecessarily prolong the story.
The short version is that Rosie was not in the chicken yard to greet me when I clucked a greeting. Nor was Rosie in the chicken house nestled in the straw awaiting the birth of the daily egg. I was perplexed, but decided I might think better on a full stomach even though my sore throat would preclude anything good and crunchy.
I went to the house and into the kitchen where Mom had ladled up a plate of — you guessed it — chicken and noodles!
I spooned up a bit of lunch and began to relate the mysterious saga of Rosie and wondered aloud what could have happened to her? Where could she be hiding?
Mom’s silence spoke volumes. Her glance at Dad told me the rest and I fled from the table in tears. It could have been any of the other chickens in the yard. Why Rosie?
Mom did her best to make amends. I don’t think she realized Rosie was so special to me. She coaxed me to eat my lunch, but because chicken and noodles was the only lunch on the menu, I simply could not do it.
And, I haven’t been able to face a plate of chicken and noodles since. I know it isn’t Rosie, but it is chicken and noodles and that’s where Rosie ended up.
Sorry, Ben!
Liz Ciancone is a retired Tribune-Star reporter. Send e-mail to opinion@tribstar.com.
Liz Ciancone
MS.TAKES: Chicken and noodles will never look the same
- Liz Ciancone
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LIZ CIANCONE: A little bit of cursive comes in handy
Good grief. What next?
I read recently that there is a movement underfoot to cease teaching cursive writing in the public schools. I understand that this is merely a suggestion and is optional, but still …
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LIZ CIANCONE: Give pets the gift of a better, longer life
It’s amazing how many of us at the Family Sports Center are involved with pets. But I recently became aware of how involved some of us have become.
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LIZ CIANCONE: Super Bowl festivities mostly for super rich
I hate being in a minority, but I guess I am. I am considerably less than thrilled over having the Super Bowl altogether too close to my back yard.
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LIZ CIANCONE: Catalog this mail as junk
On or about Dec. 1, I picked up the mail to find three Christmas cards along with an unusual spate of catalogs. The cards reminded me that mine were still in the bottom drawer of the desk waiting to be addressed. I appreciated that.
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LIZ CIANCONE: Up close and personal with Da Bears' Mike Ditka
Mark Bennett’s delightful story of how his son acquired Barry Larkin’s autograph reminded me of how Number Two son scored the signature of Mike Ditka.
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LIZ CIANCONE: Small-town kids were naive, but not stupid
I told my Best Friend the other day that I thought I’d write about growing up stupid. “We weren’t stupid,” said he, “we were just sheltered and naive.” He’s right. We had no idea that there were people and things in the world that would want to hurt us.
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LIZ CIANCONE: She’s all for spacing out those holidays
That swooshing sound you heard may not have been the wind. It was me! I was breathing a sigh of relief that the holidays are over until the next time.
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MS. TAKES: Some look forward to spring and garage sales
We are officially into winter and just days after the longest day of the year. We can begin counting the days until spring and can look forward to waking up to a bit of sun.
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LIZ CIANCONE: Let gifts to lawmakers help cut the deficit
In the holiday spirit of giving, I’d like to pass along to Congress a tip I ran across in my reading. If adopted, it would enable the competing parties in Washington, D.C. to enhance federal income without raising taxes or reducing social programs.
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LIZ CIANCONE: Pujols’ gift list overflows — for now, at least
It’s going to be a Merry Christmas for the Albert Pujols family this year!
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LIZ CIANCONE: How much 'twinkle' do we need for holidays?
I had an especially dear friend who went into a blue funk in Christmas season. She once threatened to spell out “Bah, Humbug!” in twinkle lights on her lawn.
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LIZ CIANCONE: Work's not a 'right', it's a necessity
I understand the Indiana Legislature intends to work to produce a “right to work” bill this coming session.
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LIZ CIANCONE: Holidays bring on baking duties
Somehow, in the vast scheme of things, I have ended up point person for holiday baking.
I know how it happened. Mom was a great cook. I’d give almost anything if I had found her recipe for raisin sugar cookies or the chocolate-orange cake. She turned out coffee cakes, sweet rolls, bread, butterfly rolls and sweet surprises. We always had dessert.
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LIZ CIANCONE: Keeping track of a tattered underworld
Mom always told me to be sure I never left the house with torn or dirty underwear. She usually added a warning about being hit by a truck or a bus, or some other catastrophe befalling, so that I’d be carted off to the hospital where my tattered underwear would become a matter of public record and private shame.
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LIZ CIANCONE: So far, this is a poor excuse for debate
I don’t know about you, but I’ve seen enough “debates” to last the rest of my natural life.
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LIZ CIANCONE: Sounds of silence are now hard to find
Is there anyplace left where there is no noise — other than the comforting noises of nature?
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LIZ CIANCONE: Grueling trips, but we were together
Family vacations were a given. Dad usually had a 10-day vacation every summer and the only question was where we would go for the best fishing.
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LIZ CIANCONE: Lure of the stage gets in your veins
When I cast my memory back far enough, it seems as if I have always been stage struck.
As a first-grader, I was picked to play a child in the senior class play at Stockton High School. Maybe it was my pigtails? I only knew that I was excused from class early on several afternoons a week so that I could rehearse with the big kids.
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MS. TAKES: They’re gone, but their music is not forgotten
Dad believed that if it wasn’t composed by John Philip Sousa or Victor Herbert, it simply wasn’t music. Imagine his reaction to Woody Herman or — gasp — Stan Kenton!
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LIZ CIANCONE: Uncle Ed’s mule Maud was faithful work mate
I like horses. Really! I do. I like them best seen from the windows of a car as they graze in a lovely spring pasture. I even like them on television as they do a parade lap before the start of a major race. But I draw the line at a second experience on the back of a horse.
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LIZ CIANCONE: Rules would be fine, if they made more sense
I was pleased to read that the Department of Homeland Security plans to ease up on airport checkpoints. Not for the likes of you and me, but there will be no more “pat downs” of small children. Wee ones won’t even have to take off their shoes.
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LIZ CIANCONE: 2 women’s strength of character unforgettable
Remember the old “Readers’ Digest” feature: “The Most Unforgettable Character I Ever Met?”
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LIZ CIANCONE: Memories of 9/11: Hairpin vapor trails
Those of us who have been around awhile remember a lot of stuff. Not only do critical moments in our lives loom large, we also remember exactly where we were and what we were doing when history was being made.
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LIZ CIANCONE: Today’s girls have more opportunity than ever
I confess. I had a bit of a battle with the green-eyed monster the other morning. The newspaper had pictures of high school girls playing soccer with a team from another school, and with obvious joy and pleasure.
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LIZ CIANCONE: Lesson 1: School is not a drag
Not long ago I ran across an old letter I had written to Dad when I was five years old. He had saved it!
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LIZ CIANCONE: Charter schools won’t solve all of education’s problems
A friend asked me the other day what I thought of Tony Bennett.
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LIZ CIANCONE: Coming to grips with typing technology
I was asked the other day if I still used a typewriter.
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LIZ CIANCONE: Missing the wishing inside the catalogs
Only 24-hours after returning from vacation, our mail person delivered a two-week accumulation of mail. Our mailbox overflowed!
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LIZ CIANCONE: Achoo! Summer cold is something to sneeze at!
Of all the miseries visited upon mankind, I think that the summer cold wins the door prize!
My Best Friend and I opened our third box of tissues Sunday, a BIG box, not your handy, pocket-size job. We added tissues to the shopping list assuming that one or the other of us will soon feel like getting out. I know I’m ready to go someplace, ANYplace, as long as it’s out!
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LIZ CIANCONE: Haven’t we seen you somewhere before?
I’ve heard it said that everyone has a doppleganger — a look-alike — and if that’s true, I suppose that somewhere in the world is a person who looks enough like me to be mistaken for me. Maybe it would take a dim light, or a vivid imagination, but for what it’s worth …
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