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A Little About What Little I Know About Myself

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Hold On I Know I Wrote This Down Somewhere, Canada
Just a quiet country boy who believes in remaining calm at all times even though there are times when a little excitement is necessary. I also believe in living each day to it's fullest because when it's over you can never have it back and it makes one less you have coming. I was married to the most wonderful woman in the world, my late wife Ellen. She will always have a place in my heart. I like cooking, dining out, traveling, shopping, gambling, blogging, bling and I love my truck cause she's pretty and fast. Oh and let's not forget food.

July 15, 2010

Fried Chicken

Well I ain't here a tryin' to out do no one but after reading a recent post by one my blogging friends about a chicken I just had to write a post myself. Of course I'm sure you've probably guessed by now that it's about chickens. Sounds like a good subject for today.

I remember way back when, back when I was just a young'n growing up on the farm with my grandparents. My grandmother as some of you know was from West Virginia and she had several brothers who had also moved to Maryland and bought farms. One of her brothers Uncle Clark passed away when I was still young but I do remember him pretty well and the other, Uncle Cabell, was around most of my life. He was the younger of the group. One day my Uncle Cabel stopped by as he often did and told grandma he had a gift for me. I guess I was around 8 at the time and it was just before Easter so this was to be my Easter present. He brought this box around to the back porch and handed it to me. I could hear noises inside and when I opened it I found 2 baby chicks. I had the Boxer dogs, a white rabbit and a pet pig so I don't know why he thought I needed another pet but he did. I was tickled pink with them and immediately put them out on the porch and ran and got some chicken feed. I put a small amount down and started taping my finger on the porch and saying Peep Peep...Peck Peck...Peep Peep...Peck Peck, and they came running over to me and started eating. My uncle asked what I was going to call them and I answered right away "Peep Peep and Peck Peck". One turned out to be a rooster and the other a hen of course. They were White Leghorns and they grew to a pretty good size.

As time went on they grew and settled in at the chicken house with all the rest of the birds but they knew they were special. They were always around me scratching and hunting bugs on the ground and just being good company as any well treated and loved pet. Now they didn't jump up into my arms or want their bellies rubbed but they were lots of fun. Somewhere along the line Peck Peck the rooster developed a mean streak. I guess since he was the ruler of the hen house and a pretty big fellow he could pretty much do what he wanted. Never once did he show and meaness toward me but for some reason he took a likin' to floggin' my grandfather. Knowing he was my pet my grandfather pretty much tolerated him because it wasn't like every time he came outside the rooster was hiding in the bushes somewhere just waiting for him but one day he had  enough of Mr. Peck Peck. I remember it to this day when he gave my grandfather a really good floggin'. For one thing we never trimmed the spurs off the back of Peck Peck's leg and they were pretty long and could do serious damage. Well I remember my grandfather building a smoke house for the meat when we butchered hogs. Also known as a meat house. Well there he was trying to work and ol Peck Peck would come over there and do his little dance. Lots of times when rooster are getting ready to fight they will do this silly dance around their opponent and do this charging thing throwing out their chests and stopping just before making contact. Well he kept this up and my grandfather would shoo him off. This only got Peck Peck aroused and ready to duke it out. Finally and I remember this so well, my grandfather was bent over with 1 knee holding the board he was sawing and here comes Peck Peck. He ran over there and leaped into the air and landed square on my grandfather's back and began to just flog the heck out of him and he was using those hind spurs too. It really wasn't funny but it was if you know what I mean. My grandfather was running around trying to get this crazed bird off his back and couldn't reach him and Peck Peck was having a field day. Finally he shook him off and hurried into the house and I heard him yelling as he told grandma that the  rooster had to go. Well I knew what that meant and I told Peck Peck he had really done it this time and there was nothing I could do to save him. He didn't seem bothered by the situation and just went about strutting around proud of the fact that he had won that battle hands down.

Poor ol Peck Peck. One day while I was at school grandma did him in and that night we had fried chicken. Well the rest of the family had fried chicken but not me. That's the only time in my life I ever turned down fried chicken. I  just couldn't bring myself to do it but my grandfather sure seemed to enjoy it. Guess he really won after all.

Even though we would kill chickens after they weren't laying eggs much and were getting older, Peep Peep was allowed to live out her life as my pet until passing away of old age.

Sigh Fried Chicken...I thought about Peck Peck for a time after that when I was eating fried chicken but time heals all wounds.

Thought I would leave you with this little diddy to entertain you some.
Remember ol FogHorn the Leghorn? I just loved this bird.




10 comments:

Rocket Man said...

One summer when he was 8 my youngest brother went to stay with our grand parents on the farm in Ohio. My Uncle Bob had a cabin on the adjoining property and he was raising a hog on grandpa's farm. The hog's name was Sherman.My brother decided Sherman was his best buddy.One day Uncle Bob had emptied a few brown bottles and Sherman did something to set him off. That was the end of Sherman. Now, my brother didn't see Sherman get put down and he didn't see him butchered but he did get a rude surprise when he found out where those great pork chops grandma fed his a few days later came from. For the next couple of years every time Porky Pig came on TV my brother would start crying.

Cowboy Joe said...

We had close to 40 chickens up in Lytton when I was a kid. When they finally decided it was time to move back down to the West Coast, Grampa Joe came up and did them all in using a coat hanger to snap their necks. Then we had to dip them all into boiling water to strip their feathers. I couldn't eat chicken for a few months either.

JennyD said...

OMGGGGGG, after reading the last 2 comments, I don't think I'll ever eat chicken OR pork again. They've got me cryin' in my beer -- well, if I had a beer, I'd be cryin' in it, but you catch my drift.

Curtis, that story was great! It had me laughing soooo hard with the picture of him dancing around your grandfather, getting ready for the attack, and then ON him, LOL. What a visual! But just as soon as I finished laughing, then I felt terrible for poor old Peck Peck. It wasn't his day, was it. I wouldn't have eaten that fried chicken, either. So yep, you understood what I said in my reply to you on MY blog, only the No Chicken era didn't last as long for you. Man, that was some story. Loved it :D

Curtis said...

True Story Jennie but you were my inspiration as always.

Toodie said...

So you haddah LegHorn eh? Your poor grandaddy sure took alot from him. We had chickens when I was growin up and never had trouble with, oh wait don't think we ever had ah rooster. Never mind. I love the cartoon too. For some reason your rooster behind granddaddy I was thinking of the cowardly lion with fists up say'in "put'em up, put'em up!"

Sue Mac said...

We always had hen as kids, even after we got married i got hens, some day i still wish we had some , but they bit hard to have in town
Take care
Sue

Cindy said...

All I can say is your Grandpa was a very smart man. I would've done the same thing he did, what you did and what Grandma did too.

I remember way back when Woolworth's sold pastel colored chicks around Easter time. Thanks for the memory

Sally said...

Oh my heavens, Curtis; your poor granddaddy! Quite a visual there. As you know, Mom grew up on a farm, and she would never eat chicken nor would she tell us why. She'd cook it, but not eat it. I repeatedly asked her, but no dice.

Now, here's a question, and pls don't think I'm stupid (well, a little I guess) but I actually did not know that people ate roosters. See? I told ya, I ain't very smart. :)

Curtis said...

A rooster's a chicken ain't it?

marge said...

Tell you what, Curtis...I was attacked by an aggressive goose in the past and it wasn't a good thing. I'm afraid I'd have to side with your poor granddad on the rooster issue, but maybe not going so far as serving PeckPeck with a side of mashed potatoes.

Maybe a week in solitary might've done some good...

Funny story; thanks for posting it!!!