The great chicken massacre of 82' (1982 that is) PT 2
It didnt take long for us to show back up, all dressed up in our dads, or grandpas suits, of course the pants were too long, so we just walked on them. JTs cousin from Mississippi had just got there and JT had him dressed up in some huge dress pants and an over-size jacket about 40 times to large.
Of course it was hot, really, really hot. But we gathered the chickens bodies up anyways with a shovel and layed them eternally into JTs grandmas shoes boxes that she had until that day kept stacked real neat in the closet. We dug 14 holes in the side of the garden, where the dirt had been disked up, but nothing planted there.
As we put the shoe boxes in the ground, JT decided he would be the preacher and he would lead the service, since after all, they were his daddies chickens. So we bowed our heads and JT started to pray for all the chickens to go to heaven and that whatever had killed the chickens would forever suffer internal torment for such a terrible thing.
Somehow I got nominated to be the song leader, and we sang amazing grace, 1 and third just like on Sunday Morning, and then we decided this was too boring and we decided to do "when the chickens go marching in" and walked around the yard with our hands raised high singing (or in my case yelling) at the top of our lungs..." O when the chickens...oh when the chickens..go flying in .."
About the second time around JTs grandmas house singing, his grandma stopped us with that "look" on her face. There we were, one 9 year-old, and three 11 years olds, all dressed up in oversized clothes, dancing and shouting about chickens and she just knew we were doing something wrong.
She sat us down on the couch and gave us a stern talk about how not to be "sack-religious", a word I hadnt heard before but once, the time I had played Jerry Lee lewis on the church piano at VBS the year before. The word made me think of saccarin tablets my mamaw put in her tea in place of sugar. She point her finger at us and walked back and forth, all of us trying our best not to laugh. She finally got thru with her lecture and as soon as we could get away, we decided it was time to find a swimming hole.
Of course it was hot, really, really hot. But we gathered the chickens bodies up anyways with a shovel and layed them eternally into JTs grandmas shoes boxes that she had until that day kept stacked real neat in the closet. We dug 14 holes in the side of the garden, where the dirt had been disked up, but nothing planted there.
As we put the shoe boxes in the ground, JT decided he would be the preacher and he would lead the service, since after all, they were his daddies chickens. So we bowed our heads and JT started to pray for all the chickens to go to heaven and that whatever had killed the chickens would forever suffer internal torment for such a terrible thing.
Somehow I got nominated to be the song leader, and we sang amazing grace, 1 and third just like on Sunday Morning, and then we decided this was too boring and we decided to do "when the chickens go marching in" and walked around the yard with our hands raised high singing (or in my case yelling) at the top of our lungs..." O when the chickens...oh when the chickens..go flying in .."
About the second time around JTs grandmas house singing, his grandma stopped us with that "look" on her face. There we were, one 9 year-old, and three 11 years olds, all dressed up in oversized clothes, dancing and shouting about chickens and she just knew we were doing something wrong.
She sat us down on the couch and gave us a stern talk about how not to be "sack-religious", a word I hadnt heard before but once, the time I had played Jerry Lee lewis on the church piano at VBS the year before. The word made me think of saccarin tablets my mamaw put in her tea in place of sugar. She point her finger at us and walked back and forth, all of us trying our best not to laugh. She finally got thru with her lecture and as soon as we could get away, we decided it was time to find a swimming hole.
Total Comments 7
Comments
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That gave me a good laugh...
Was anyone ever sad about not getting to eat those chickens? Or freeze them? And did JTs grandma ever dig up a shoe box and chicken bones when she did her gardening?Posted 06-23-2008 at 09:42 AM by emeraldsky
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I liked the part about Jerry Lee, the piano and you being "sack-religious"..Which song were you doing?
Posted 06-23-2008 at 09:51 AM by Miss Blue
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the song was great balls of fire blue, I only knew the middle part of the song.
emeraldsky, if they were, we never knew about it. JT said his dad was mad about the chickens getting killed, thats really the only time his grandma lectured us, most of the time she just shook her head-lol I have no idea if she ever "found" the boxes or not.Posted 06-23-2008 at 10:11 AM by arguy1973
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You really should submit this to Reader's Digest, or to The Saturday Evening Post. Too funny not to share with a wider audience. Sounds just like some skit from the old back-n-white Little Rascals! Laughing my behind off, and it hurts right now from sitting too long. . .Posted 06-23-2008 at 11:45 AM by RDSLOTS
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arguy, where's your next blog entry? I'm missing your blog. I guess you have a life and you're busy...
I better get going to take my son to swim lessons myself...Posted 06-26-2008 at 09:15 AM by emeraldsky
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ok now you really have a fan in me lol ... poor chickens well u all did your best lol.. great blog as usual ....you could write a book on things u done lol.....Posted 07-05-2008 at 03:59 AM by brenda starz
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Made me remember coming home only to find that the neighbors dog had busted into my chicken yard and took all of my big red hens down. That was a sad day. I had raised them from day olds. Even had some of them named. I even came up with a new name for the neighbors dog.
You still have a great story line here. Maybe one day I'll put the catfish & chicken caper together for a laugh or two.Posted 07-17-2008 at 08:07 AM by Nomadicus
