Call for new word brings up fairy tale existence
Someone should make up a word that means happy and unhappy at the same time.
Think about it. Think about the times your family comes home for vacation, then leaves again. You’re happy they came, unhappy they’ll be gone again for far too long.
Both my out-of-state sisters came home recently. Suzan came in May, but Barbara left just last week. She left her makeup mirror here.
Someone should make a mirror that shows the face of its owner no matter who looks into it. That way, when a mirror is left, the person who left it would never be far away. You’d just have to look in the mirror to see her or him.
That would be kind of like “mirror, mirror, on the wall,” though, and our lives would end up like fairy tales.
My luck, I’d be Snow White for a day and my true love’s kiss would fail to wake me after I ate that crazy apple. Of course, I’d get a bunch of sleep that way. That’s a plus.
And I can see it now. I’d finally get to be Cinderella, and that pumpkin coach would hit a bump and knock the spell off. There I’d be in my fancy ball gown with my head sticking out a hole in the side of the pumpkin where a door once magically appeared.
If I were Rapunzel and let down my hair, there’s a good bet I’d hit the prince, or whoever climbs up her hair, with all those golden locks and send him boots over belly to the ground, never to try again.
Fairy tales worldwide keep children entertained, and the online list of fairy tales seems to go on forever. I never felt as if my childhood fairy tale consumption was slighted, but doggone, that list is long.
Like the French “Babiole” or the Chinese commentary on childhood, “Beauty and Pock Face.” Or “The Battle of the Birds” from Scotland, which might have prompted that creepy Hitchcock movie “The Birds.” Guess I’m not going to look that one up, no matter how much I like the idea of all things Scottish. Except maybe haggis.
I guess I shouldn’t say I don’t like haggis because I don’t know if I don’t like it. I’ve never tried it. They call it a savory pudding made of what’s described as sheep’s pluck. That would be the heart, liver and lungs. I like chicken heart, but not so much the liver. In fact, it’s a stretch to even bite into beef liver, and I’m thinking lungs won’t ever get inside my mouth. I say that now, but there’s always a chance I’ll change my mind, especially if ever I get to Scotland.
But what really makes haggis sound iffy is everything is rolled together and put inside the animal’s stomach. Which makes me wonder if you just slice that stomach open and eat the stuff or if you’re supposed to eat the stomach wall, too.
Or is that just a nasty fairy tale to keep people away from Scotland?
So long friends, until the next time when we’re together.
Sandy Mickelson, former lifestyle editor of The Messenger, may be reached at email@example.com.