Tuesday, April 6, 2010

4 April, 1911

Bless Wilson. The dear chap tried his hand at cooking -- a total disaster. He fried seal meat in penguin blubber (not the most palatable substance) and the lot tasted like cod liver oil. A few hardy souls did him the honor of actually eating it, but most of us had to bow out.

This is the Emperor that Cherry rather blanched at the prospect of skinning. It weighed easily 90 lbs.

The Hut reeks of penguin. Oh how we dream of our mother's kitchen tables, of staples and delicacies alike, served to us by knowing and loving hands.

1 comment:

  1. This is the Emperor, short and squat,
    With a beak (and a reek that is best forgot)
    And a feathery tuft and a motherly zeal
    That leads him to go through a very strange spiel,
    He'll take a lump of the ice and mould it
    Till it's small and round and his belly enfolds it,
    And there he'll sit on his ice-egg and wait and wait
    (Until he comes to his senses and looks for a mate) -

    But yes, this is the Emperor, stiff as a board,
    That Cherry started skinning as soon as it thawed.

    P.S. Think I should submit my poetry to the South Polar Times, sir? I showed Farmer Hayseed, but he made some remark about needing those sheets of paper for the call of Nature.