Corny

      He usually sits on the ledge of my kitchen window. He is a hand carved rooster.    My husband and I, children of the 60s, call him Corny.  If you are old enough to remember the Kellogg’s Corn Flakes commercials of the late 50s early 60s you might recall that Corny was the rooster on the corn flakes box.  But that is another story.

We  built our current home about twenty years ago.  At that time country was the most popular decorating style in our area.  While I was having a lot of difficulty finding my decorating style, I was in love with the look and welcome feeling of my friend Cathy’s country home.  She and  another friend, Elwanda , had  decorating talents worthy of Country Living Magazine.    Elwanda and two other friends asked me to go with them on a decorating pilgrimage through Amish country of Pennsylvania and on to Allentown for a Country Peddler show.  

Four of us, Elwanda, her daughter Rhea, Joan, and I left very early on Wednesday morning pockets full of money and heads full of dreams of the perfect decorating accessories for our homes.  Our first stop would be Gettysburg.  I, not realizing that there was more to Gettysburg than a battlefield, was overwhelmed by the beauty of the town.  It looked like a home decorating magazine come to life.  We got there too early to check into our hotel and too late for any real exploration before dinner.  So being the shoppers that we were we set out to see what the town had to offer.   The first shop was a little place broken into rooms staged as a home.  I wandered to the back planning to start there and work my way to the front entrance so I would not hold up the group.  There, in a mock kitchen window, sat Corny.  I picked him up studied him and carefully placed him back in his assigned position.   I wandered through every room of the store making note of the many beautiful things they offered.  I returned to the kitchen to take a final look at him before I left.   When we regrouped the others had found several items.  I had nothing. 

The next morning we eagerly continued our journey headed for the shopping mecca of Pennsylvania, Lancaster.   There were more outlets there than I had ever imagined.  It was opportunity overload.  There were the authentic Amish artisans whose wares were not only magnificent but outrageously priced, and grab nickel tourist traps whose merchandise was not worthy of our sophisticated shoppers’ eye.  I learned very quickly that my purchases would have to be carefully selected.  There would be no reckless gathering to be followed by necessary gleaning.  Our journey continued through all of the required stops Hershey, Intercourse, Bird in the Hand, and Philadelphia.  Finally, we moved on to the greatly anticipated Country Peddler expo in Allentown.  

 We awoke that morning in a frenzy of excitement about the possibilities of the day.  This show was the reason for our trip.  Ignoring the omen of torrential downpour that morning, we were among the first to enter the massive metal roofed building.  We planned to spend the day inside the hall meeting for lunch at a predesignated place and time so we could take our morning purchases to the car and continue the afternoon session unhindered.   As I meandered back for our lunch meeting I caught a glimpse of Joan.  She wasn’t carrying much and her body language told me that she, like me, was shopped out.   As we walked together to the “meeting place” we realized this venture had not met our expectations.   We quickly agreed to leave the show and look for better shopping ground.   I don’t know what we did next but as we traveled south the skies cleared and we made several great unexpected finds. 

As we headed for home the final day,  Elwanda lead us in reflection of the trip, the great time we’d had, the favorite restaurant, the best food, the prettiest town, the things that most surprised us, the one item that was our greatest treasure.   When I finally answered that I hadn’t bought the most outstanding thing I’d seen on the trip.  She knew what I would say.   She vividly recounted her memory of watching me as I had lovingly placed that rooster back in the window.  She told the group  how beautiful he was and she would have bought him herself, but she didn’t need a rooster.   After a little chatting about lunch and where to eat, Elwanda announced, “We must go back to Gettysburg.  If we don’t get that rooster Velma’s life will be ruined!”   Well why not; it would only be about 150 miles out of our way?  I knew there was no need to fight the mob mentality.  They determined that we were destined to go back and that we would arrive before the stores closed.    I was not strong enough to stop this senseless detour. 

Twenty years have passed.  I still live in the same house.  My decorating style is still undefined.  During that time I have fallen into, out of and back into love with my home.   Joan has retired and I have pretty much lost contact with her.  Elwanda died a few years ago.  I not only lost a friend but, having been my home economics teacher, l lost another connection to my high school experience.  I had learned many things from her in and out of the classroom.  She was a wonderful cook, an amazing decorator, and the most considerate friend I have ever had.    Rhea and I still teach in the same building but I rarely see her.  A few months ago we met in the hall and she asked if I still have “that rooster”.

I happily replied, “Of course I do.  My life would be ruined without him!”