chicken of peace

thanks wikimedia commons (PD)

"Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity!" That's the King James version of the German verse above, Psalm 133:1.  This painted window, part of a larger one featuring the reforming theologian Johannes Brenz,  is found at the Evangelical Lutheran church of Ravensburg, Germany.  The church has a page (in German only, alas) on its history.  I've been looking for any specific tie between this verse and the hen with her egg, and the best I can do is suggest that just as the hen shelters her egg, so may we all shelter under divine protection together.  The window dates from the 19th century and seems to have been designed by Gustav Konig.

good morning

Fletcher Fund, 1929 www.metmuseum.org

I think Etruscan askoi flasks are my new favorite things this week.  This askos (flask) dates from the 4th century B.C., and is a stylistic adaptation from earlier Greek bird-shape vases.  Askoi were based on the shape of plump full wineskins, which look a lot like a sitting bird, and askoi were popularly made in the shape of ducks (also nice and plump).  This rooster is an unusual variant.  Look at his perfectly modelled comb.
Here is an article on Etruscan bird-askoi from the Penn Museum, and another on Etruscan pottery overall from the Ancient History encyclopedia online.

kiss and make up, 1797

thanks http://gallica.bnf.fr (PD)

History lesson, everybody!  What European peace treaty does this odd picture represent?  No, I didn't know either...

The caption reads, "Le Traité de paix avec Rome : baisez ça papa et faite pate de velours." Translated as best I can: The peace treaty with Rome, kissing the Pope and keeping a good face on it.  

There's a possibility the actual meaning might be a lot cruder, considering this is a satire of the Treaty of Tolentino of February 1797 in which Napoleon imposed terms of surrender on the Papal States.  So the cat in the hat there is the Pope, accepting a branch of peace that isn't going to end well for him and he knows it.  The Pope in question, Pius VI, was shuttled off to exile, and died a year later in France.

the human-chicken bond

thanks pixabay

How did the chicken cross the road?
Turns out that's a really good question, and the answer seems to be "By tagging along with their human buddies."  When you think that your basic model of chicken is a creature native to Southeast Asia, and then drive down the street in urban Portland past somebody's front yard with oh so hip coopful of fowl, you have to ask how that happened.
Luckily for all of us chicken fans, there's "Cultural & Scientific Perceptions of Human-Chicken Interactions."  A project including no less than six British universities, scicultchickens.org aims to research and explain what chickens have been to us, and when and how.  There's a database of archaeological chicken bone finds, a blog of various activities in chicken-human research (the latest post at time of writing is an examination of chickens in video games), a gallery with an interpretation of imaginary chicken breeds, and much more.
There's a related, more informal website on the topic too - Chicken Coop.

early christmas cards

The Miriam and Ira D. Wallach Division of Art, Prints and Photographs: Print Collection, The New York Public Library. Christmas cards depicting young girls with cats, chicken, and dolls. Retrieved from http://digitalcollections.nypl.org/items/510d47db-c102-a3d9-e040-e00a18064a99

These are publisher's proofs found in the collection of the New York Public Library.  The publisher, Louis Prang (American; 1824-1909) was the head of the Boston-based firm Louis Prang & Co.; he is credited with being the first publisher of Christmas cards.  No date available on these, but they're considered as being typically Victorian in their idealized portrayal of these flaxen-haired little girls with dolls and pets.  Bet you'd never seen a Christmas chicken before!  

If these were early Christmas cards, no wonder we don't see all the holiday stuff we're used to: holly, Santa, trees, red and green.  I think that had yet to come as expected imagery.  Still pretty cute and full of the giving spirit of the season.

more of the fair 2016

the once-a-year elephant ear.  mmmm

I thought this looked like a baby chick football team

Interesting pigs, one asleep, one up for treats: 

the Mangelitsa or Mangalica, a curly-coated Hungarian breed of swine 

I like running ducks, though I keep referring to them as "upright ducks"

the fair 2016

Off to the Washington State Fair today!  

Time to stroll around and check out the pygmy goats...

the awesomely curly Sebastopol geese....

fancy baby chicks....

and this super-fancy pigeon's tail (of which there was so much I couldn't see the rest of him!)

More snaps tomorrow.

glorious plumage

courtesy wikimedia commons (PD)

Yes, I mean both sets of plumage, as Massimo Stanzione has celebrated them in this 1635 portrait of a "Woman in Neapolitan Costume."  Look, here's a page on Italian chickens. I think her friend is an Ancona.  How about you?

fable: "the cat, the cock, and the young mouse"

spot illustration from the book

From an 1836 collection of fables, here's one on not trusting to appearances, written by Robert Dodsley in the 1700s:

A Young Mouse, that had seen very little of the world, came running, one day, to his mother in great haste: —“Oh! mother,” said he, “I am frightened almost to death! I have seen the most extraordinary creature that ever was. He has a fierce, angry look, and struts about upon two legs; a strange piece of flesh grows on his head, and another under his throat, as red as blood: he flapped his arms against his sides, as if he intended to rise into the air; and stretching out his head, he opened a sharp-pointed mouth so wide, that I thought he was preparing to swallow me up: then he roared at me so horribly, that I trembled every joint, and was glad to run home as fast as I could. If I had not been frightened away by this terrible monster, I was just going to commence an acquaintance with the prettiest creature you ever saw. She had a soft fur skin, thicker than ours, and all beautifully streaked with black and grey; with a modest look, and a demeanour so humble and courteous, that methought I could have fallen in love with her. Then she had a fine long tail, which she waved about so prettily, and looked so earnestly at me, that I do believe she was just going to speak to me, when the horrid monster frightened me away."
“Ah, my dear child!” said the mother, “you have escaped being devoured, but not by that monster you was so much-afraid of; which, in truth, was only a bird, and would have done you no manner of harm. Whereas, the sweet creature, of whom you seem so fond, was no other than a CAT; who, under that hypocritical countenance, conceals the most inveterate hatred to all our race, and subsists entirely by devouring Mice. Learn from this incident, my dear, never, while you live, to rely on outward appearances.”

Flowers of Fable. Selected from the best sources. (London: Tilt and Bogue), p. 335

a pet chicken in war

In the horror and destruction of war, soldiers find a living creature to cherish...but war is war.  This curious poem offers an unvarnished look at what even the oddest mascot means to those on the front lines.

LITTLE PET CHICKEN

Went to a house in Belgium;
Folks all dead—place on the bum—
All on account of a bloomin' shell;
I tell yah war is jest plain hell.
There was a gal about fourteen year;
To think of her now it brings a tear;
An' right atop of her shinin' hair
A little pet chicken a-nestlin' there.
We tuck 'im back to make us a fry,
When somebuddy said: "Don't kill 'im, le's try
To feed an' keep 'im an' make 'im our pet."
An' that's jest what we done, you bet!
That dern little chicken, ef you'll b'lieve me,
Jest loved a fight the same as we;
Follyed us everywhere, ev'ry minute;
Wasn't a scrap that he wasn't in it;
Tell one foggy day we'd been plantin' mines,
An' got way inter the inemy's lines,
An' started back, we heard a squawk
Like a chicken makes when it sees a hawk;
An' there on the ground was a red hot wire,
A snaky line o' livin' fire.
Burned to a crisp was our little pet chicken!
Think of it now an' it makes me sicken.
We flattened out an' the bullets went over,
The current went off an' we crawled back to cover.
An' some of us cussed an' a few of us cried
When we thought how our little pet chicken died.

Dora Nelson, A Farm in Picardy (Cornhill Company, 1919) pp. 33-4