Saturday, November 26, 2011

Forks in the road

Thanksgiving. I looked at the sparkling forks resting in their tray, waiting to do battle.
forks

Forks are the middle way. Neither the kind, nurturing sort, as the spoon...Yes the spoon has always enjoyed good press. Spooning. A spoon full of sugar. A soup ladle. Stir it up.
The knife on the other hand, is a danger. Slicing, stabbing, creating division. A Messer in German.
But the fork is a middleman. Why, the devil carries a fork, not a knife. The fork holds and detains. It decieves and speaks with forked tong.
One must always make a decision.

"An Englishman named Thomas Coryate brought the first forks back to England after seeing them in Italy during his travels in 1608.

The English ridiculed forks as being effeminate and unnecessary. "Why should a person need a fork when God had given him hands?" they asked. Slowly, however, forks came to be adopted by the wealthy. They were prized possessions made of expensive materials intended to impress guests. Small, slender-handled forks with two tines were generally used for sweet, sticky foods or for food (like mulberries) which was likely to stain the fingers. By the mid 1600s, eating with forks was considered fashionable among the wealthy British. Forks used solely for dining were luxuries and thus markers of social status and sophistication among nobles." - From The Hospitlity blog

An old drawing

(I have often featured forks in my artwork)
I will do one again tomorrow...

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