Friday, February 13, 2009

Eatin' with a Family of Nine

I ain't saying we was poor growing up. We had each other and plenty of work to do. Didn't get paid for most of the work but a new pair of work shoes in the fall was pretty good compensation. I didn't know milk came from a store until I was on up in years, I always gave the cows I milked credit for that. I knew where sausage came from, it came out of that grinder bolted to the eatin' table when it was cold enough for hog killing. That was when us kids tried to store up enough fat to get us through the winter. I was a good eater but my bigger siblings were more crafty at it. I remember sitting in the middle on the little bench along one side of our long table. I never thought about it then but you know they always saved the chicken neck for me. It was my special piece of meat and they would not dare touch it. They had to settle for the breast, drumstick or something like that. I never could bite off a piece like they did, I had to sort of just munch on it until I got tired. Nothing like a chicken dinner. Our chickens were afraid to celebrate when they laid eggs. The roosters, if they crowed at all, would walk off away from the house to do it. I don't want to make you sick but my siblings always saved the squirrel brains for me too. I've read that they can cause brain damage so, there ye go. 'splains why my mind works like it does. I'll tell you, even when I laid out in the woods with the rifle for hours waiting for that squirrel and learned to peal off the fur without getting it on the meat, still they saved know...for me. I think once I got the back but it was a challenge to get any meat off the back. Squirrels just don't store much there. I didn't much care, so long as the squirrel didn't look at me. Mama made sure that didn't happen. In some places, they mix them with scrambled eggs but looks to me like that would ruin the taste. For years, I liked to climb trees but it has worn off and I am scared of heights now. I won't describe in this post how the eatin' is done but I can tell you it is much like eatin' a raw egg out of a shell. Well, enough politicks for now. It is sort of nauseating, come to think of it. Did anybody ever hit your elbow when you had a spoon full of something on it? Now you know why I don't mind telling on my brothers and sisters. They are alright but I'd be careful eatin' with 'em.

No comments:

Post a Comment