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My Earliest Memories

My first actual blog posting is going to be about my earliest memories. I’m not sure which of the two stories below happened first, they were probably around the same time. Hope you enjoy:

I actually have two earliest memories that stand out in my mind. In one of them the joke was on me, in the other the joke was on the world.

My very earliest memory and I must have been about three or four years old at the time, my mother had just gotten through giving me a bath in the bathtub and I was anxious to get outside. Really don’t remember what it was I was so anxious to get outside for, because I really didn’t have any friends in the neighborhood that I played with at that age. Anyway, my mother wasn’t moving fast enough to get me dressed, and she must have gotten distracted off doing something else. Well, I decided to go on outside in my birthday suit. Fortunately, I went out the back door instead of the front. I distinctly remember going out the back door and walking all the way to the very back of the back yard. At this time, the back yard was not fenced in. All of the back yards all ran together. Well, here I am standing there looking east for something at the back of the back yard, with all of my business hanging out for the world to see. Not sure how long I was there, but my mother finally discovered that I was not in the house and came looking for me. Needless to say, she was not a happy camper. She came and got me and dragged me back into the house and to the bedroom where she got me dressed. I really can’t remember getting any kind of spanking. It really wouldn’t have surprised me either way.

My second vivid memory was when the joke was on me. I was probably about the same age as in the previous story; this was before I started going out to spend a lot of time with Aunt Jewel in the country. Anyway, we were out there visiting Grandma who lived in the big old house on the corner; Aunt Jewell lived in a little two room house behind her, to the east. That’s right, two ROOM, not two bedroom. There was a livingroom that was pretty good size, probably 15’X25’ and then a small kitchen behind it that was probably 18’X18’. The kitchen was big enough that later on after Aunt Jewel had moved into the new house, her husband J.T. used the kitchen as a cabinet shop. But I diverge from the story. So we were out there visiting all the kin folks, who knows, it might have been after someone’s funeral or something, Aunt Jewel who always kept chickens had just had a hatching of little chicks that she had in a small box out on the front porch of the house. Well, me being the little fart I was, they showed me the chicks and I just fell in love with them, and of course, I wasn’t content to just look, I wanted to pick them up and hold them and pet them, and me being the spoiled brat that I was, you wasn’t going to stop me. Well, you might not stop me, but the momma of those little chicks could. You see, those weren’t incubator chicks like most of the chicks are now. Those eggs had been sat on by the hen for 21 days and she had probably laid many of the eggs herself so she had an investment in them chicks and she didn’t like the idea of me messing with her babies. She came after me, and she flew up and commenced to flog me around the head and face and just wear me out in general. Well, me being the little city kid that I was at that time, and the age that I was, this scared the living SHIT out of me. And I took off running and that hen kept coming after me. Not sure how far I ran before she thought I was far enough away and quit flogging me, it seemed like it was a couple hundred feet but I’m sure it wasn’t that far, probably 10 or 20 feet. Needless to say, I learned a lifelong lesson from that experience and never messed with a hens chickens again. That might explain why I like to eat chicken so much now. It is my way of getting revenge at that hen.

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