model70hunter
Member
I introduced you to our new side kick Wild Willy in the hay bucking adventure.
Shortly after that Wild Willy got his drivers license and drove to the farm instead of trotting.
I , my Bro and Rodent were in the yard hen Wild Willy pulled up. We heard him coming as most cars down shift and make noises coming up the side of the mountain which seems vertical in places.
Willy gets out and produces a fine recurve bow and target arrows. Some GI on orders let it go for a few bucks and Willys Dad bought it.
We raised lots of chickens every year, Mom had many, many hens and some set raising their broods. We mostly used the pullets for replacement hens from these. We also raised 100 day old chicks, mostly roosters. IN the fall we heated water in one of the big black cast iron pots and butchered chickens. Filling deep freezers. We also di one hog and sugar/salt cured it.
Dad was the law on livestock, cows and pigs that is.
Mom was the Chicken Queen of the outfit. She was the chicken whisperer. After many years of buying different breeds our local chickens were of unique colors. The 100 eaters were usually white. Hundreds of chickens running around and Mom knew who was laying and who was slacking, something about the color of the comb. She was say get the brown an yellow hen with the white legs, chop her head off and I'll get a pot boiling to pick her for dumplings.
Some of you have seen the double bit axe used on chickens, Mom impressed Bro and I growing up. We would never push her to that point, nope grabbed by the ankles and draped over the big old oak log section chopping block and it's quickly over. One known factor was Mom ran her chicken business with an iron hand. She expected x number of eggs gathered daily, washed and put in a carton by the time she and Dad got home from work.
It happened to be on a Friday as Willy was spending the weekend. Did I mention hundreds of chickens butchered? We had Mom's fried chicken dinner every weekend. Before butcher time Mom would pick out lazy roosters or early local ones for dinner.
We had one rooster who I knew was probably on Mom's radar, a big Rhode Island Red and White Rock cross, he was too lazy to chase hens or fight, every time the door opened he ran over looking for food.
Wild Willy had already endeared himself to our Ma, he had the silver tongue. Oh Ma'am that was the best chicken dinner I've ever had, can I have 4th's on your homemade taters? They are the best. Oh those little sweet pickles you won't let your boys have are the best. Well Mom was well know to be one of the best cooks in the area, Willy kept the compliments rolling and she ate it up. Bro and I touched him up privately until he learned acceptable sidekick manners.
Willy pulls out the bow and arrows. Man he is proud. We look it over and find BEAR on it, must be a good one. Rodent and Wild Willy had been circling for quite a while, at times it looked like a 4th o July sparkler but the real fireworks had not yet exploded.
So Rodent says, Willy, I'll bet you can't hit that red and white rooster. I knew and figured it out quick, if Rodent conned Willy into messing with Mom's chickens old Willy would find hisself being drug by the ankles to the chopping block.
Willy ignored Rodent just like he wasn't there. Then Rodent insulted Willy's manhood, all 16 years of it. Willy let the arrow fly, it struck the Rooster in the rear end lodging in the breast and had magically missed any vital organs.
My Bro and I both had the vision of Mom dragging Willy by the ankles to the chopping block. Rodent knew he lived in the shadow of the block and would not escape this carnage, he jumped on ole crazy and spurred her home. I yelled catch and behead him, I'll get a pot of water boiling, pick and process him. I watched as I ran to the house, Willy and Bro were being out smarted at every turn. They jumped and he turned, they cornered him in the fence and he'd fly over. When I came back out Willy had grabbed the arrow and pulled it free.
The sad fact for the rooster was, it took Port Orford red cedar splinters in the sphincter to motivate him.
The deed was finally done, I knew he'd be tough eating after running a full marathon.
My Bro had never picked a chicken this fast. I'm thinking Port Orford Splinters for him too.
We finished, ran to the yard and rolled some Bull Durham, yep a sack and papers in your shirt pocket sort of brought the west to you. Old timers whose wives ran the show would see the BD tag hanging out and ask, ya got the makings? Had one ole 60 some year old man run across a 40 acre field yelling ya got the makings? They tasted good right then.
So we were relaxed and clean, Mom came right back out, what's that rooster soaking in the fridge for BOYZ!
This is the only time we did not brad Willy's beak for sweet talking Mom. We did it for Sunday dinner so you don't have to mess with it tomorrow. Ma smiled a little. I keep telling folks, even my own mother that you are the best cook ever.
He said Rodent rode that crazy mare over and he may have caused the chicken to get hurt. Bro and I looked at each other, stretching it but Rodent was the root cause.
She said she was proud of us boys and admired how nice and truthful Willy was. We need to watch and learn from him. Uh Oh. That one canceled his pardon.
I think it's now called water boarding. We gave Willy a noogie that left him red from ear to shining ear. We sort of held his head under the pond till he came clean.
He improved and became a life long friend that don't come any better.
Shortly after that Wild Willy got his drivers license and drove to the farm instead of trotting.
I , my Bro and Rodent were in the yard hen Wild Willy pulled up. We heard him coming as most cars down shift and make noises coming up the side of the mountain which seems vertical in places.
Willy gets out and produces a fine recurve bow and target arrows. Some GI on orders let it go for a few bucks and Willys Dad bought it.
We raised lots of chickens every year, Mom had many, many hens and some set raising their broods. We mostly used the pullets for replacement hens from these. We also raised 100 day old chicks, mostly roosters. IN the fall we heated water in one of the big black cast iron pots and butchered chickens. Filling deep freezers. We also di one hog and sugar/salt cured it.
Dad was the law on livestock, cows and pigs that is.
Mom was the Chicken Queen of the outfit. She was the chicken whisperer. After many years of buying different breeds our local chickens were of unique colors. The 100 eaters were usually white. Hundreds of chickens running around and Mom knew who was laying and who was slacking, something about the color of the comb. She was say get the brown an yellow hen with the white legs, chop her head off and I'll get a pot boiling to pick her for dumplings.
Some of you have seen the double bit axe used on chickens, Mom impressed Bro and I growing up. We would never push her to that point, nope grabbed by the ankles and draped over the big old oak log section chopping block and it's quickly over. One known factor was Mom ran her chicken business with an iron hand. She expected x number of eggs gathered daily, washed and put in a carton by the time she and Dad got home from work.
It happened to be on a Friday as Willy was spending the weekend. Did I mention hundreds of chickens butchered? We had Mom's fried chicken dinner every weekend. Before butcher time Mom would pick out lazy roosters or early local ones for dinner.
We had one rooster who I knew was probably on Mom's radar, a big Rhode Island Red and White Rock cross, he was too lazy to chase hens or fight, every time the door opened he ran over looking for food.
Wild Willy had already endeared himself to our Ma, he had the silver tongue. Oh Ma'am that was the best chicken dinner I've ever had, can I have 4th's on your homemade taters? They are the best. Oh those little sweet pickles you won't let your boys have are the best. Well Mom was well know to be one of the best cooks in the area, Willy kept the compliments rolling and she ate it up. Bro and I touched him up privately until he learned acceptable sidekick manners.
Willy pulls out the bow and arrows. Man he is proud. We look it over and find BEAR on it, must be a good one. Rodent and Wild Willy had been circling for quite a while, at times it looked like a 4th o July sparkler but the real fireworks had not yet exploded.
So Rodent says, Willy, I'll bet you can't hit that red and white rooster. I knew and figured it out quick, if Rodent conned Willy into messing with Mom's chickens old Willy would find hisself being drug by the ankles to the chopping block.
Willy ignored Rodent just like he wasn't there. Then Rodent insulted Willy's manhood, all 16 years of it. Willy let the arrow fly, it struck the Rooster in the rear end lodging in the breast and had magically missed any vital organs.
My Bro and I both had the vision of Mom dragging Willy by the ankles to the chopping block. Rodent knew he lived in the shadow of the block and would not escape this carnage, he jumped on ole crazy and spurred her home. I yelled catch and behead him, I'll get a pot of water boiling, pick and process him. I watched as I ran to the house, Willy and Bro were being out smarted at every turn. They jumped and he turned, they cornered him in the fence and he'd fly over. When I came back out Willy had grabbed the arrow and pulled it free.
The sad fact for the rooster was, it took Port Orford red cedar splinters in the sphincter to motivate him.
The deed was finally done, I knew he'd be tough eating after running a full marathon.
My Bro had never picked a chicken this fast. I'm thinking Port Orford Splinters for him too.
We finished, ran to the yard and rolled some Bull Durham, yep a sack and papers in your shirt pocket sort of brought the west to you. Old timers whose wives ran the show would see the BD tag hanging out and ask, ya got the makings? Had one ole 60 some year old man run across a 40 acre field yelling ya got the makings? They tasted good right then.
So we were relaxed and clean, Mom came right back out, what's that rooster soaking in the fridge for BOYZ!
This is the only time we did not brad Willy's beak for sweet talking Mom. We did it for Sunday dinner so you don't have to mess with it tomorrow. Ma smiled a little. I keep telling folks, even my own mother that you are the best cook ever.
He said Rodent rode that crazy mare over and he may have caused the chicken to get hurt. Bro and I looked at each other, stretching it but Rodent was the root cause.
She said she was proud of us boys and admired how nice and truthful Willy was. We need to watch and learn from him. Uh Oh. That one canceled his pardon.
I think it's now called water boarding. We gave Willy a noogie that left him red from ear to shining ear. We sort of held his head under the pond till he came clean.
He improved and became a life long friend that don't come any better.
