We Are What We Eat (?)

Obviously he will be nutty if he eats nuts. I can tell this by the way his mouth looks, anyway. But if I eat him (a squirrel) will I be squirrely? Or will it merely define me as being a huntin’-fishin’ (and possibly poverty-stricken or lower-class) type person?

The sender of the squirrel card writes, on October 19, 1949:

Potatoes all dug. Snow last night – ground white. Louie did some ploughing yesterday & we all got in apples this week – not many apples here – Hope business is good with you. Ella

Keeping with our squirrel and bird theme, here is a California quail. Will I quail if I eat it? Or will I be tiny and difficult to de-feather? Or will I just be considered elegant perhaps, and from the upper-class?

Seagulls are not considered good as food nor good around the farm. Horses apparently are more well thought of, but do we eat them? Not here, usually. There is a long history of eating horses in other places, though – and they are considered quite delicious. Would I be horsey if I ate a horse? I wonder.

I could be soft-boiled, scrambled, hard-boiled or freshly-laid if I ate an egg.

None of this matters to the sender of the egg card. He says, to his friend at John Hopkins Hospital:

We can beat you playing Set Back. Good Bye.

No signature. I’m not surprised.

Mice are not all that far away in thought, from squirrels or birds. But usually we don’t eat them. In Ancient Rome though, dormice with honey was considered quite a delightful dish. Were the Ancient Romans like mice?

The mouse on the card is trying to eat cheese. Obviously he wants to be cheesy. His wife is not allowing him, for she sees that there is danger in being cheesy.

And so it goes. Are we what we eat?

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Cats at Tea Time

cats fin

cats back fin

Dear John – Don’t you think these cats are “sissies” when it comes to mice? I took care of Doris Tyrell’s little dog one day last week and she brought me six of these cards to send to my grandchildren. You should have seen how scared the dog was during a thunderstorm! Love from Grandfather and Grandmother

It looks like teatime was interrupted for these prim and proper kitties by the rude intrusion of what appears to be a family of rats! If the table could be re-set, the linens straightened, the tea replaced by a bit of brandy or champagne to speed recovery from this terrible shock, would the kitties then want to return to their pastries? I think not. If it were my dinner, I’d be bringing out the smoked salmon.