Friday the 13th
Posted by Fiona Nevile in Cottage tales | 45 comments
photo: Mrs Boss on the nest again
My stepfather had an uncle who always stayed in bed on Friday the 13th .
“The whole day?” Aged nine, I was amazed.
“Yes, all day. He also used evaporated milk in his tea. To avoid too many trips to the shops, I expect.”
My stepfather never revealed the name of this uncle but I had a clear picture of him. Firstly the bed. An single iron bedstead with stretchy mattress (no wife would put up with the evaporated milk). The carpet slippers nestling on the lino under the bed ready for shuffling trips to the kitchen. The chipped teapot, its belly scorched with the patina of years of tea making (leaves not bags). Endless bachelor suppers of Fray Bentos tinned pies and cans of mushy peas.
Each Friday the 13th I think about this nameless eccentric uncle. As the years roll by I become more and more intrigued by this character. Did he ring in sick every Friday the 13th when he was working? Or did he take it as annual leave. Studying the calendar and marking these days off with big round rings. And how did he pass his day? Somehow I sense an old radio beside the bed and him dressed in pyjamas (the ones with the cotton trouser ties) leafing through a pile of copies of the local free newspaper that he had carefully put in a convenient pile beside the front door over the preceding weeks.
I’m always a bit apprehensive about Friday the 13th. Although I have survived them for over fifty years.
This morning I went down to the chicken run and I opened the door. As always, I counted the flock as they erupted into the run. One was missing.
I opened the roof of the nesting box and discovered Mrs Boss had died in the night. One wing was stretched out over the nest of eggs.
She was a great favourite of ours and mother to broods of guinea fowl, runner ducks and chickens.
Like my stepfather’s uncle she stayed in bed on Friday the 13th but just didn’t wake up.
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I’m so sorry to hear your sad news, brought more than a tear to my eye. Caroline xx
bon voyage mrs boss
I’m so sorry to hear this, such a shock for you, but such a peaceful end for a wonderful character. She will be sadly missed…
I am so sorry. I loved reading about Mrs Boss. I can well believe she was protecting her offspring to the end…
So sorry to hear that Fiona. She was very much loved and admired. Showing both great strength and character all documented beautifully by you.
Much love to you both, Amanda x
So sorry for you and Danny.
Mrs Boss was such a wonderful character and she will be sadly missed.
Heidi x
As I read this post all sorts of replies were forming in my mind. My brother, who was 40-something yesterday, always believes that it is a sign of a good year to come when his birthday falls on a Friday. How in Spain it is Tuesday the 13th they have spun the same superstitions around. My grandmother’s friend who took to her bed for fear of falling and breaking her hip, only to fall out of bed one day and break her ankle. But all these stories paled into insignificance when I read the sad news of Mrs Boss. She had a good and productive life and without her you would not have the guinea fowl and Beatyl or the Indian Runner ducks up the road. Her legacy lives on but who will take her place as the mother hen and raise new stock for you this summer?
oh poor mrs boss, really sorry to hear of her demise…she was always a lovely hen to read about and did you proud raising the chicks (and ducks)!!
Oh, Fiona! That’s so sad — you and Danny must be terribly upset. Like everyone else I didn’t see this coming and it hit me with a real jolt. Dear Mrs Boss will be mourned and missed by her many fans all over the world.
Dear Mrs Boss – super-mum, screen goddess, CS blog treasure. What a sad day for you and Danny.
Celia
x