Driving by my neighbor’s chicken coop made me want to build one. They are awfully cute! I just don’t want the chickens. Chatting with my sister we were reminded of our grandmother’s chicken-raising days.
First of all – I hated the hen house. I was a total five-year old wimp. Gathering eggs was just too emotionally traumatic for me. The hens would peck and pester and I was scared. (I did like the wire egg-gathering basket though. It was cute!) My brave grandma would come out after I returned eggless and grab those hens and throw them off their roosts. I never quite got tough enough for that job, even when I turned six years of age.
However, watching Grandma butcher chickens was pretty exciting! She could wring their necks with her bare hands and properly wield an ax to chop off their heads. I found a headless chicken running around to be quite entertaining. Not so entertaining was the job of pulling the quills out of the skin after the birds were de-feathered. Ick. But – we were allowed to help and that was good enough for us little kids.
Glad we talked through this one. Everything about chickens is cute – except the chickens. I think I’ll keep the memories and toss the structure. My husband will be happy to know we are not building the chicken coop I pinned from Pinterest.
What about the smell? I seem to remember something about droppings.
Totally reminds me of growing up with my Grandma. Funny!
It stunk!!!! I remembered that vividly…and yet – liked the outcome!