It’s very early in the morning as I write from our hotel in Swansea. I seem to have jet lag without crossing a time zone, probably the traffic noises, the pillow and the light peeping in around the curtain. We had dinner last night at an American Italian chain called Frankie and Benny’s. There were old black and white pictures all over the walls and on the menu of the original Frankie and Benny, who will be turning in their graves if they ever find out. It was an imitation of an Italian run American diner.
Our server worked hard entertaining us like an American server would and I was bothered when I realised we had no change to tip him. I left some euro. In this country the euro is fake money and next to useless, but it’s the thought that counts, isn’t it? Except I was thinking, “I have to give him a tip.”
(Hello real hen)
All this reminded me of my hair and the hens (most things remind me of the hens :)) How we humans imitate something (or someone) we think is great when all along there’s something great right under our hat. Sometimes we do the imitation so well we don’t even realise we’re doing it. We straighten our hair, we curl our hair, we comb-over our hair, we dress in a certain way, we act in a certain way, we step into a certain role and we pretend it’s us… We’re fooling no one and anyway the real us might just be a little more attractive.
(Hens get tired too and need to rest a leg)
The hens walk their own funny walk. They hug no one they don’t want to hug. They go to bed when they want to and they ignore all unwanted interaction. I’m on the hunt this morning for a hen-experience! An ordinary real Welsh cafe for my breakfast. One where my table might be a bit sticky to touch, might not be the same colour as all the rest, may even have a wonky leg… but the person serving me is real… and possibly a little cranky. And I’ll be paying attention to what it is I find attractive about that!
Be your own cranky self, Mairead.