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Tales from WannaBea Farm
“Daddy, I’m scared”, I cried as I scrambled around the backyard trying to catch another chicken. The wind was already howling around the house, the trees bending and twisting. Grabbing up the last of my hens, I ran into the house and lifting up one of the boards on top of the #2 washtub, shoved her into the tub and tried to replace the board before another hopped out. Too late, one of the other hens had jumped out and now we were in a mad dash around the house, all three of us trying to catch her, she running under the beds or flying up on the cabinets, determined not to get caught again. There were only three rooms and no inside doors, not even on the closets, and no ceiling, just rafters, so she had a real advantage over us. All the while Daddy yelling that he was going to eat every one of them when we got back. And me crying and begging him not to. It was a complete madhouse. Eventually all the hens were in the tub with water and feed, boards arranged carefully over the tub so they could get air but couldn’t get out. “Let’s go”, Daddy called. “I’ve got to wash these dishes first”, Mamma replied, but Daddy wouldn’t let her. “We’ve got to go before it’s too late, leave’em”. “But”, Mamma started to answer when Daddy yelled, “Now” in that tone that we both knew not to argue with. We ran for the car, the wind blowing more wildly than before. As I huddled in the back seat with my dog, I watched Daddy fight the wheel as the wind shoved us all over the road, debris flying everywhere in the blinding rain. “I knew we should have left earlier”, Daddy kept muttering until we finally arrived at Uncle Marvin’s. Finally, snug and warm in a sturdy brick house, we could barely hear the storm raging around us. I fell asleep with my arms around my dog. Three days later, after the flood waters receded we awoke to a beautiful, sunshiny day. Daddy loaded us all in the car for the trip home. Looking around Uncle Marvin’s nice neighborhood of brick homes, we saw lot’s of debris, but not much damage. Daddy was relieved and optimistic as we traveled home. Aaaaah, but our home was a three room frame house on piers, built a room at a time by Daddy. Not quite a shack but certainly not a sturdy, little brick house. And on the way home we started seeing all the damage everywhere. Arriving home, we saw that the roof was bare, all the shingles blown away. “That’s not so bad”, Daddy said, as we crawled out of the car. But then he opened the door, and we all gagged. “Those &%$#@ chickens”, I heard him scream. Peeking around him, I saw the biggest mess I had ever seen in my short life and immediately made myself scarce. I had seen Daddy’s wrath before! The hens had escaped! With no shingles on the roof, the rain had just poured in, soaking everything and I mean everything. The hens must have escaped shortly after we left and they had roosted everywhere, on the headboards on the beds, the rafters, the chair backs and even the closet poles. There were eggs everywhere, some whole and some busted, with their contents already drying. And I’m sure you know what else they did everywhere, even while roosting in the closet. Like every little girl, I was always in a hurry to grow up, but not this time. I was so thankful when Mamma yelled at me as I was trying to help, “Just go play and get out of my hair.” She didn’t have to tell me twice! Go to HYPERLINK "http://www.leoncountytoday. com" www.leoncountytoday. com to read the rest of my stories. HYPERLINK "mailto:Jdstark18@yahoo. com" Jdstark18@yahoo.com. |
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