During the Biathlon World Cup we saw a few people walking about with chickens on their heads. Strawberry really wanted one, so I told her to go and ask a young man, with a blue one on his head, where he had bought it. I thought she'd chicken out (sorry) and that would be the end of the matter, but she bravely walked up to him and asked in Swedish first and then in English where he had got his fantastic hat. To the Swedish she got a response she didn't understand, gobble-de-gooch (?), and to her English question she got the reply:
"I speak French!"
So we presumed that the hats were purchased in France and we made do with a fuzzy wig in the German colours.
On her birthday I had to buy some more material for the Art Room and in the Art shop, where they also sell fancy dress clothes, sitting on a shelf was a chicken hat. I couldn't leave it behind. Since then she has had to put up with a lot of staring and giggling and a few new names, but she still loves the hat. She uses one of the feet as a pretend microphone, holds it close to her mouth and says:
" I repeat there is a chicken sitting on my head."
On an entirely different subject, she would like to know if there are a lot of "skywalkers" in America?
We stopped here, on an island, to buy a sack of potatoes, on the way home. The mountains we skied down can be seen in the background across the lake we have just driven across.
