Portuguese Rooster

Carved Wooden Rooster from Portugal. My mother traveled to Spain and Portugal with her best friends, the next door neighbors. Their son was studying in Barcelona and Mother went along on the trip. This is typical of the kind of bright souvenir that would catch her eye.

Allthough this little bird is just a tchotchke, it reminds me of a rooster story my grandmother told:

“When we lived on the farm, our rooster was a big old mean thing. He liked to chase your mother and aunt, cornering them on the porch against the railing. They weren’t much taller than he was, and once he’d cornered them, he’d hop and peck and crow. It got so they were afraid to go out in the yard. Time for rooster soup!

“While the soup was cooking, the girls played zoo in the front room. Your mother [mine] pretended to be a lion caged under a chair. Roaring, she stuck her head through the rungs. And got wedged in. Her sister began jumping around, yelling, ‘You won’t get any jumping rooster soup.’ Neither soap nor vaseline could unstick her head. We had to take the chair apart.”

How satisfying as a child to know your mother was a scamp!

This being Mother’s Day, I want to add how terribly I miss her. She was a scamp her whole life (perhaps I should post the picture of her sticking out her tongue as proof). But she was also generous, helpful, loving, and smart. How lucky I was to have such a mother.

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