Cock - A- Doodle -Do

Cock -A- Doodle-Do


Hello and welcome back to Nickle Plate Farm Memories.

The last time we visited I shared a few memories about my grandma as she did the morning farm chores. Today, I will share more barnyard memories.

I waited at the henhouse door as my grandma chased the hens off their nest. She quickly gathered the eggs and carefully placed them in a basket. The process seemed challenging as I fearfully watched for the Rhode Island Red rooster to come running around the corner at any moment.

I wasn't the only one in fear of the red rooster. The old red rooster put the fear in many family members and visitors  who came to the farm, many of whom barely got their car door open, their feet out of the car and on the ground, when the old red rooster would come on the run. I never knew a rooster could run so fast! How can a tiny bird brain be so scary? Terrorizing is a better word to describe those ruffled red feathers and black beady eyes coming after you!

One Sunday afternoon he raced across the yard, prepared to flog and spur his enemy. It may have been funny had it been a cartoon, however, this was the real thing.  My uncle grabbed a broom and swiftly hit the old red rooster in the head, knocking him to the ground as the rest of the family stood there in shock of the unexpected as well as very timely death of the Rhode Island Red rooster.

I'm sure we had chicken and noodles for supper the next day.  My grandma made the best homemade noodles.

OUL April 18 Book Event

Welcome!

Hi, and welcome to my author blog! I'm thrilled you stopped by my little corner of the world! I grew up in the 1950's and was raised on a farm in southeastern Ohio, in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. The Hocking Hills area is famous for hiking, horseback riding, camping, arts, crafts, and quaint, relaxing, picturesque country views. It's natural beauty never ceases to amaze the thousands of visitors who come here every year.  It seems to be the perfect place for relaxing, reading, and writing.

My interest in writing goes back to some intriguing stories my grandmother told me about her father, who fought in the Civil War.  Other stories of interest and curiosity were the stories she told of her own childhood, where she grew up in Dupont, Ohio.  I never tired of listening to her stories of which inspired my interest in our family history and historical events. See my book information at the bottom of this page.

A little about my own childhood

I have many fond memories of growing up on the farm where I followed my grandmother around as she did the chores.  I would follow her across the shaky old wooden footbridge that crossed the small creek leading to the barnyard. Together we followed the well worn path to the chicken house. She carried a bucket of chicken scratch feed while I carried an empty basket to carry eggs in. The warm morning sun shined on the old Plymouth Rock hen as she took a dust bath, scratching in the dirt, flapping her wings, and ruffling her feathers. The Rhode Island Reds were the first to come running when the scratch feed was thrown out on the ground. They were a friendly and happy bunch of brown egg-laying, free-range chickens. I can still hear those happy social clucking hens as they scratched and pecked in the dirt to find every last speck of grain. I should give a word of warning about those Rhode Island Red roosters.  They can become very aggressive and sneaky, but that's another story to tell.

Come visit me again and I'll tell you more about growing up on the farm. 

I'll see you soon!

Amazon Author Page