Five Canada geese flew over as I walked along Wildcat Boulevard the other morning. It was good to see them, as I had not seen any local geese for quite a spell. Perhaps they have been busy laying eggs, setting on nests, and protecting their young.

Five Canada geese flew over as I walked along Wildcat Boulevard the other morning. It was good to see them, as I had not seen any local geese for quite a spell. Perhaps they have been busy laying eggs, setting on nests, and protecting their young.
For some reason they were quite noisy when they flew over. I understand that geese urge on the front fliers when there are many geese flying in a V. This day there were only five geese, but they seemed to be all honking at the same time. I wondered why.
Kay and I eat restaurant food quite a bit. We usually order “take out” and go pick it up. For the two of us, preparing large meals doesn’t seem worth the effort.
I had picked up a meal the other evening, and as I drove home I began thinking about eating out with my parents. We were farm people. We ate breakfast after the morning chores were done. We ate dinner at noon and a lighter meal, supper, at 6 p.m. We usually did all the chores except milking the cows, which was done after supper. That way my mother could clean up for the day when we were in the barn milking.
It was rare that we ate any meals in town. When drive-ins with waitresses who came to your car became popular, we would sometimes eat at one of them. We liked A&W Root Beer. We visited Dairy Queen. Occasionally, we ate in a restaurant.
When we got the menu in a restaurant, my mother would study it carefully, going over  every item. Still she usually ordered fried chicken. She liked chicken. We raised chickens. She butchered chickens, and fried chickens in a big cast iron “chicken fryer,” but she still liked to eat chicken.
My dad and I varied what we ordered. For a time, I really liked hamburger steak, something you can hardly get anymore. Hamburger steak was a very large paddy of hamburger served like a t-bone steak. With a little catsup it is outstanding.
For some reason, one of my mother’s sisters went with us those times we ate in a restaurant. She always asked about and usually ordered a soup. She ordered soup so much that my little brother began to call her “Auntie Soup.” The nickname did not seem to bother her, as she continued eating soup.
One year we were able to find a chore boy(Uncle Earnest Hively) so we could take a vacation to Yellowstone Park. Of course, during the trip we ate in restaurants.
One time my dad decided he wanted to eat Rocky Mountain trout. He and I both ordered it for our meal.(I imagine my mother had chicken.) The trout was served on a platter with the head still attached and an eye staring upward.
We had never seen such a thing. Of course, we didn’t complain. My mother cut the head off my fish, covered it, and set it aside. My father covered the fish’s head with a napkin. He said he didn’t like eating something that stared at him. The fish tasted fine, but we did not order Rocky Mountain trout again.
Take a walk, eating out or eating in as a family is good, use those signal lights, watch for pedestrians, and see what you notice while passing along Wildcat Boulevard.   




     
Russell Hively writes a weekly column for the Daily News.