Re: The Rooster

You just had to bring up the subject of chickens and roosters, didn't you!
;-) My own experiences which I try not to dwell on, but thanks to you the
memories are at the forefront again lol! Memory as a little girl on my
grandparents farm: time to butcher and prepare some hens for eating. Nice
scene; my Grandpa and uncles would put the chickens' heads on the butcher
block. One swipe of the hatchet and off go the heads. Then, the worst
part - all these chickens running around the yard without heads (reflex
action, I guess). Oh, Lord, I can see it all again ;-)

Then, my rooster story: I had a friend who had a spunky rooster. They also
had a horse, which they asked if I would watch and feed and water while they
were gone a few days. The horse was just fine; but I was very uneasy about
the J"attack rooster" and would try to keep my eyes on him every minute.
But, that sucker got me one day when I was carrying a pail of water to the
horse stall. My back was to the rooster, and within seconds, I felt a very
sharp pain in my calf area, and when I screeched and turned around, the
rooster was strutting away, and he had put a hole in my slacks and drew
blood. If I had a gun or even knew how to use one, I'd have shot him right
then and there. So much for your sharing the rooster experience! Nanny
"Califchief" <califchief@xxxxxxxxxxx> wrote in message
news:1179300399.11.0@xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Area: FidoNet MEMORIES
Msg#: 18822
Date: 05-15-07 10:54
From: Art Tait
To: All
Subj: The Rooster



During the Great Depression, my folks lost our house on the than outskirts
of Detroit. We moved in with my mother's folks on a small farm just
outside the small village of Mottville, Michigan.

Since there was a nice solid chicken house, my Dad and Granddad decided
that raising a few chickens might be the thing to do. Not only would we
have eggs for our own use but the A&P in Constantine would buy any surplus
that we might have, issuing a chit good for groceries. Kroger's did not
to that and in later years I talked to many oldsters who refused to shop
at Krogers for that reason.

But I digress.........

A couple hundred White Rocks were ordered and in due time the mailman
pulled up to the backdoor with several boxes of chicks.

As the chickens grew, the roosters were converted into Sunday dinners, and
the hens finally started to lay. A few roosters survived, I suspect to
keep the hens happy.

White Rocks are big chickens but one rooster was huge! He spent as much
time patrolling the area as he did in the chicken yard. In time he came to
think of himself as 'KING' of all he surveyed.

One afternoon, I was messing around in the front yard when I heard
frightening screams coming from the back of the house. I rushed around the
house to see what all the commotion was about and what a sight!

That rooster had decided that my brother, some seven younger than I am,
didn't belong in the yard and was chasing him out!

For a little kid, my brother was taking strides that would put an adult to
shame. At each leap he was squalling "Helllllllllp," hit the ground and
again "Hellllp." I just couldn't help myself. I lay down and rolled on
the ground laughing like crazy. About that time my mother came out to see
what was going on. She didn't take kindly to my response to my brother's
plight and proceeded to make her point with the broom she carried.

A few days later, when my mother was gathering the eggs, that rooster
tried to chase her from the hen house. A stray board happened to be handy
and when Mother got finished with him, he lay under the roost for several
days and we thought sure he was all but dead. Apparently, roosters
aren't overly bright because when he had healed he tried that same stunt
again!

My grandmother was an expert at making chicken pot pie and that rooster
landed on the table for Sunday dinner.

Those pot pies always fascinated me. Gram would fill a pan with chicken,
potatoes, a few vegetables and then put an upside down glass in the middle
and than a layer of biscuits covered the top. As things cooked away, the
juices were somehow sucked up into the glass and it was an honor to be
allowed to tip it over for the gravy.

There are a number of Amish in my area and I often see chickens out
scratching around. It never fails to bring `The Rooster' to mind.


... Could you continue your petty bickering? I find it most intriguing.
___ Blue Wave/QWK v2.12


.

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