Hugh's grandmother has an umbrella with feathers.
looks like a chicken with its wings spread. Hugh looked at him carefully from under the protection of Magretta arm that keeps him caught his grandmother.
The grandmother of Hugh broom weeds next to the chicken coop. Herbs mysterious and nameless.
do not understand how they can be born in the garden, the people we have made and when. Surely it was during the night when everyone is asleep and no one is there to establish who enters and leaves from the garden town.
rains and Ugo nibbling a sandwich of white bread sitting on the stairs of the entrance of the house. Grandma grabs a chicken for the feet, the strong shake like an umbrella that will not open up the handbag and pulls the neck until the stop fidgeting. To which the bird winks to Hugh that sniffs and looks away, turning away.
Grandma whispers in the wind and good advice, quiet, puts his paws on the shoulders of chicken, chicken mushroom opens and here again the umbrella of feathers. So sheltered, still wet from the garden zozzerie broom weed and tried and austere winter. Then, to warm up, have dinner with soup, meat and chicken wings.
One day, my grandmother got sick of those to stay in bed for days. Hugh decided to make her the favor of going to the garden to weed.
Eye of carrots, said the old woman, who seem to waste but are also good raw.
Eye on the chickens, he said again that are good in the pot, eggs and umbrella.
And Ugo soiled, baby, then end up like the smell of the food moist and juicy Rostu.
(Rostu Ciccio is the dog of Mary, but we are not interested to know more).
Ugo Thus ended the garden and tried unsuccessfully to tame chickens and chickens to cover his Fat Head when the rain seemed to last forever. The animals did not like rowdy immolate the poor Ugo each end of the day which ended up soaked. So he began to take an umbrella.
-looking than force me to do, two-bit presumptuous chickens! - He complained about every holy dreary morning.
-is because there like me that can not be my umbrella? - Inflation offended.
So one sunny morning with clear skies and cold, two young chickens ambassadors led to Hugh his case.
-My dear, with permission .- It crouched low at his feet. A whistle to attract attention. - Sir Hugh, have you ever tried to talk to? Sing some dirge from chicken before you get us the neck and, by golly, not a caress, on his shoulders like a sack of potatoes? -
Ugo rolled his eyes for a moment and thought to have first application of 'The phone . But the hens continued:
chickens-we are decent. We sacrifice to your dishes and umbrellas as you repair the heads only in exchange for a treatment that does justice to our cause. - Wagging his tail and retreated as poodles dandy.
was how my grandmother, God rest his soul, tried to teach Hugh how to deal with plants and birds simply by showing the silent craft with a thousand examples. But he was talking to the chickens and chickens that Hugh learned to perfection.
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