My funny chicken family, their fantastic personalities.

[WriterofWords]

When I was 13, I swore I would never own a chicken and I would never force my son to pick up eggs for anyone! My grandmother had chickens, she had a rooster that saw anything that entered the coop as something to attack and maime to the best of his ability. If you had ever entered her coop, you had scars.

She had a system for collecting the eggs, you took two buckets, both full of water. You opened the door, and when the roo attacked you threw the first bucket of water on him and grabbed eggs as fast as you could and put them in that bucket. By the time you got the eggs gathered the roo was ready for round two and would attack again. At this time you threw bucket number two on him and ran for the door. All this without breaking any eggs of course!

One day I went after the eggs and did the bucket of water routine with the first bucket and went for the eggs. The roo recovered quicker this time and I had to use the second bucket before I finished grabbing eggs. I didn't get all the eggs by the time he came at the third time and I panicked and swung the bucket at him to scare him away from me. Either I misjudged the distance, or he jumped too close, but all I heard was "THWANGGGGGGG!!!" and the rooster hit the ground.... stone cold dead. I didn't know what to do, I knew I couldn't lie, I knew I couldn't confess, I knew I was as dead as that rooster was.

I went back in with the eggs, she asked if I had any trouble, I said I had, but I wouldn't any longer, the rooster dropped dead. She just looked at me and stared me in the eye until I started babbling like a fool and confessed all, she already knew, she'd seen what happened.

I make sure all my buckets are plastic.....

 

[airmom1c05]

I'm in love with your grandmother.

You were raised RIGHT! My mom spent many summers with her "Mammy" who had chickens for eggs and Sunday dinner. As a very young girl who adored her mammy, she watched often as a chicken's neck was wrung for Sunday dinner. My mom wanted to help Mammy one Sunday, and actually managed to catch a hen. Problem was, she grabbed it by the legs and swung it around a few times. Mammy observed all this through her kitchen window. She had to hurry outside to "finish the bird off proper"! Before I had chickens, I thought it was a horrible story, and I never understood how my mom could laugh at the telling of it. Now I find it hysterical, but I'll never wring my chickens' legs!!!!

 

[WriterofWords]

I miss my grandmother so much, she raised me, she and my grandad. She always told me she'd get me through 25 years, after that I was on my own. I turned 25 on May 24, 1988, on May 27th she passed away in her favorite chair. She fell asleep and never woke up, I hope I go so peacefully.
I'll be outside with the chickens, or ducks, and I find myself doing things or saying things that I know I learned from her, and I stop and just bask in the memories it brings me.
I could just see your mom swinging that chicken, I too just couldn't relate to stories like this until I was much older. Now I look back at some of the things I did, or I saw, or disagreed with, and I understand better why it happened, and I can laugh now, and pass on those stories to my son.
I record living histories for a local group, and some of those people I've talked with have stories about living off of their chickens during the depression, how they sold eggs or bartered them. I love it.

 

[airmom1c05]

Now look what you've done! I often remember my granny and my great aunts while I watch my chickens. I wish they could see me now and I could talk to them. I joined the senior lady Sunday school class to fill the void. I am 50+ yr. old, and they are 70+. It's been rewarding to say the least.

Your living history recordings reminded me of a set of books my late dad gave to me one Christmas in the 70's: The Foxfire Collection I have some very good memories of us staying up in front of the fireplace taking turns reading from those books. Have you heard of them or read them? Now I want to go digging around in my bookcases and boxes in the attic to find them and read them again. A mountain town history high school teacher started the whole thing to generate interest in history with his class. It worked! The kids all had assignments to interview the locals; even their own families. If you haven't read the three Foxfire books, I highly recommend them.

 

[WriterofWords]

I love the Foxfire books! One of my first writing assignments every year is a family history. They interview their oldest living relative and write the story they are told. The next people they interview are people who have lived in our community longer than 50 years. They appreciate family more I think, after they learn more about them, and they learn to respect the older people around them.
It's wonderful to sit here and reflect isn't it? Sometimes I just have to do that, then I want to start writing and I'll be up all night! Good thing it's Friday!

 

[airmom1c05]

I'm impressed you are a writer! I have written words for songs and dabbled in poetry on and off since first grade! Actually, my mom wrote "my" first poem in first grade to encourage me to write. I am proud of her and give her credit for that simple poem:

One, two, three
You and me
Playing quietly by the sea.

Mom, unlike me, is a great economizer of words! When I was 25, I realized there was some wisdom in her brevity, and I wrote a "short" one for her to thank her properly for inspiring me:

I climbed the hill beyond the fence,
But you were not at home.
I cooked your breakfast anyway,
And ate it all alone.

She still bothers me asking if it means I ate all the breakfast by myself, or it I simply ate the breakfast alone.

My high school grammar teacher would have a field day with that!

I have heard the statement from my relatives all my life, "You should write a book." or, "I could write a book." I think the world would be a more interesting place if we all did just that!

 

[WriterofWords]

You CAN write! And it looks to me like you made breakfast for someond and since they weren't there you ate it so it wouldn't go to waste. Families need to write things down, they aren't told verbally anymore to pass them on.