Two eggs.
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Orwell Diaries 1938-1942 
There goes the Fibonacci theory.
Pingback: Петъчен дайджест « полетът на костенурката
hey little hen, when when when, will you lay me an…oh you did, twice!
Forget the foresight of 1984 etc, Orwell twittered half 70 years before Twitter came to market.
ps – I do wonder, what happens to these eggs?
No way am I giving up the Fibonacci theory just yet. What if this diary entry was written at 10pm and another egg appeared at 10:05pm? You mark my words, if there are six eggs tomorrow, one of them was from today. The system works.
Two eggs AGAIN? This hen’s on fire!
Not literally, of course.
Who is Eric trying to fool? Still only an egg a day. I think he is starting to get desperate. Eat the non-laying chooks Eric!!
egg#/7.8654{N}=99.5>yolk/7
Its hard to write out on a keyboard. All I need is another 700 days of egg count to “crack” this equation…
Good to see he is keeping his mind active.
We’re forgetting the social context here in which Orwell is constructing his diary. At the time Orwell was writing, times were hard. The Second World war was looming – indeed, it was so looming, that exactly one year to the day later, it had already been going on for two months. (Although, admittedly, unless you were in Belgium, Holland, Poland or Middlesbrough, you probably wouldn’t have been any the wiser…indeed, that would remain the case in Middlesbrough well into the 1950s. In fact, in some areas, it’s widely held that WWII is still going on…) So for Orwell, to receive one egg for his breakfast was quite a remarkable thing. To have receive *two* would be bordereing on the miraculous.
I suppose the contemporary analogy would be for someone to be sitting down at breakfast and have an apple i-phone placed before them one day, then two apple i-phones the next day and the day after that. All of which proves, if nothing else, that at least in terms of nutritional value, the breakfasts on offer in 1938 had a lot more going for them than those of today (…although, you’d be liable for a great disappointment if you tried to put a call through to the the Bahamas on a breakfast from 1938…)
xxx
Bob
The hen now realized who was in control. The one that does not toil, the one that takes her eggs that she labors for, he is the one in control! For it was only yesterday that she thought of a plan to overcome. But, today, she was told of his plan: “If you don’t lay for me, I shall have meat for supper!”
Today hen meets with burro. Perhaps the stregnth of burro could be applied to her situation. Yes, that might work.
Certainly, by now, George, you have learned of the events of 9-10 November 1938—The Night of the Broken Glass. What is your reaction?
Oh, and I applied the Golden Ratio to the Seven-Syllable Code and birthed the concept of the Integral Nodule. It was only a matter of time, of course.
Orwell’s life has now been reduced to counting eggs.
Funny.
he really loves the dual eggs.
He’s on a roll!
Pft, Kristallnacht was a chance for the Jews to look victimised.
Just doing my part to troll.
I want to believe that he’s saving these eggs up for an enormous omelette called the “Orwell-melette.”
Maybe he’s going to save up all these eggs for next Halloween. Or Guy Fawkes Day. They would be good and stinky by then!
Or those pesky Nazis.
1. I wish my blog got as many comments as George’s over things like eggs. :)
2. As a writer the phrase “One Egg” has become slang for me. I put it in my journal when I have nothing else to say and then I smile. I figured I would share since only the readers of this blog might find that amusing.
There’s an interesting history of tuberculosis treatment at http://www.aspb.es/uitb/
DOCS2/HISTORY%20OF%20TUBERCULOSIS%20TREATMENT%20pdf.pdf .
Tuberculosis used to be a very serious disease. It seems likely, given the sudden move to Morocco, that Orwell was offered the choice of some unpleasant, invasive, painful treatments at home, or moving to North Africa to watch chickens barely lay eggs. Not a hard decision.
A low-stress life was part of the prescription…what if he’s not even reading the news? I’ve certainly needed a news fast from time to time over the past few years, and maybe that’s what he’s on, too.
Even non-laying chickens are very relaxing to watch, but there’s more to write about when they lay. At least two words more.
Auto-plagiarism!
I, too, have considered that Blair’s sabbatical includes a moratorium on news.
Tomorrow big egg, two yolks, hen dead.
Orwell’s frustration with the hen lead him to write Animal Farm.
No, Brandon,
Rather, the hen has inspired Mr. Orwell to capture their social peculiarities. Hence, the hen now lays more eggs under duress for its life. Sadly though, it will take another 10 years for Mr. Orwell to include pigs in his story for the Muslim surroundings preclude such fare.
Today I deduced the meaning of the word “unworldy” as it was used in a previous thread of comments.
Anagrams for two eggs
Egg Wost
Egg Twos
Egg Tows
Egg Stow
Eggs Tow
Eggs Wot
Eggs Two
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stow geg
gest wog
gow tseg
gotsgew
thats it “gots gew” (phonetically jew!) he is writing in code about the political suppresion of the Jewish people. He probably thought his writing would be intercepted or censored somehow!
Frail uncertainty:
Eggs promising fresh new life,
Or, perhaps, breakfast
Frail uncertainty:
Eggs promising fresh new life,
Or, perhaps, breakfast