Photo Details
|
 | | Only in the Country...
My mom grew up on a farm in New City, NY, where my uncle Richie still lives to this day at the age of 101. Dad, he was an Oklahoma country boy, wild as a weed! So, this conversation may sound ok, coming from their perspective. But only in the country is this considered a “normal” conversation:
“What's for dinner?”
“Go kill a chicken.”
For cryin' out loud, Dad! I was a bona fide, Catholic-School-Girl-City-Slicker for the first twelve years of my life. We had a carpool, and bought food in stores and everything! I do believe I still suffer PTSD from “Chicken Killing Day”, and yes, we did have to do it. The implications for self-analyzing are endless! Trust me! Food issues....
At the time, that was what it was. And I opted to head to my mom's beautiful vegetable garden. Protected with a nine foot chicken wire fence, clustered with wild roses and sweet peas, to keep the deer out. Well...that does not work, because with a running start, nine feet of chicken wire is not a challenge for hungry deer, who happen to consider roses & sweet peas appetizers. So, I would plant myself in there and eat tomatoes off the vine, as if they were apples. My brother, he had chicken...
And, only in the country can you trade a baby goat and an old truck wind shield for a running '63 Falcon station wagon. Back in the 1970's part of getting ready for school was, for Kathy and Julie (my little sisters), to feed the chickens and collect the eggs. We lived in the Sierra Nevada mountains, on a little over an acre. And we had lovable African Geese, who were more like pets. Each morning they would waddle up to the back door on the porch, tap on the glass with their beaks and “honk” for crusts of bread. They were named Mama & Papa Gooser.
My brother & I had a much more trying job each morning- milking the goat. Her name was Baby. Sounds sweet, huh? Baby was anything but sweet, and fought us every morning. We'd get the pail about full, and that dang goat stuck her foot in it every time, just as it was filling to the brim- kicking over the pail and spilling out all of our hard work, leaving no milk for breakfast the next day. Mike and I devised a plan to outfox that goat. We'd get her head in the stock, give her fresh hay, (because she could not resist fresh hay!) and my brother would pick up her hind legs like they were wheel barrow handles. And I would milk like crazy. It wasn't easy milking, laughing, and holding onto a goat like a wheel barrow! Baby wasn't so keen on this method, and she hollered and kicked with her mouth full of hay the entire time! But...we had milk.
The Twisted Sister challenge this week is to make a card based on a childhood memory and write a story. If you'd like to play along, please add TSC0817 to your keywords, and tell us about yourself!
Thanks for looking! |
|
Date: Friday, August 17, 2012 GMT
Views: 2464
Favorited: 24
|
|
Additional Info
|
|
Keywords: TSC TSC0817 Farm Life Flower Soft Paper Piecing
|
|
Stamps: Farm Life
|
|
Paper: Choc Chip, White, DP, Black
|
|
Ink: Black
|
|
Accessories: Black Gingham, Picket Fence, Flower Soft, SB Romantic Rectangles, Foam Dimensionals, White Gel Pen
|
|
Techniques: Paper Piecing
|
|
|
|
Difficulty (1-Easy 5-Advanced): 3
|
|
