Little "me" Circa 1975
(A drawing I did with me and my lil red hen, Dusty)
~Dusty, The Little Red Hen~
The most memorable of memories during my childhood I hold close to my heart. It was a time where life was a bit unstable but a time that will forever be burned in my memory as being my most favorite of memories. My parents moved us to a country/rural area when I was about ten years old. My dad decided to keep chickens. From the egg we hatched 50 chickens. Those chickens were raised by me. I loved to go into the chicken house and sit with them, hold them and talk to them. I loved every moment of feeding, caring and raising them up. There was one chick that had trouble getting out of it's egg in the beginning. I helped her out of her egg finding she was a bit of a runt with a crooked neck. She lived but was not treated well by the other chickens. They would peck at her until she was literally almost featherless. One morning they were outside the chicken house in an outside pen scratching away eating bugs and grass while soaking in the sun.
There was the little red chicken runt running toward me squawking her little lungs out and literally jumped straight into my arms finding safety close to me. She was shaking and scared. It was then we kept her separate from the others because she was too little and different from them, They would have killed her. My dad built her very own cage to live in. And it was at that moment she and I were inseparable. She became a very special friend to me and I do believe I was the same in return for her. We ended up moving to another home and brought the little red hen along with us. We raised another flock of hens making me the one in charge of caring for them but it was the little red hen I loved the most. She was allowed in the house, she rode our horse and on my bicycle handles with me and she laid only one egg in her life: that egg was remarkably laid in my presence. It was amazing. Her life ended too soon as she was killed by our dogs. I cried for months over her. There were no other hens that could ever replace her. It has been over 30 years and I still think of her often. She was a very special hen. Shortly after the events on our little farm we moved once again before my parents divorced. I never had hens again, But, I have always dreamed of keeping them again, someday.
~Grampa & Gramma~
It was 1932 in Grandview Missouri, my Grandpa Herb was just a young teenage man living with his parents and siblings on a dairy farm as farm help. They lived in a tiny house where my Great grandmother kept her own little garden. They were hard workers plowing the fields, gathering hay for the milking cattle. It was hard work but a family affair.
In 1940 My Grandpa married my Grandma Charlotte.
It was around that time he left the farm life and moved on making a family of their own. My Grandmother was quite the homemaker in her day. She had to be frugal and canned their food. She had many skills consisting of sewing, knitting, crocheting, and painting beautiful things. Grandpa ended up being quite the fisherman in Washington, up until the very end of his life. I will never forget the times we would visit them when I was a young girl. Gramma had her canned jams and made each of us crocheted slippers with pom poms and we would have a nice plate of grandpa's salmon for dinner. I like to think of myself very much like my Gramma Charlotte. I have carried on the art of homemaking just as she did. Forever they are in my thoughts.