Times have changed
As a young boy on the farm, my job was to catch a hen, cut off its head. pick clean, bring it to mother for dinner. November i would watch father smack the two pigs i was feeding on the head with a sledge, drop it in a 45gal drum of boiling water shave, to smoke house.To snares, watch father neck break survivors, then watch mother skin on kitchen table.This was a typical way of community life. Sit next to my mother and father in church, have the minister home for dinner, haveing the two chicken I killed for dinner----Then off to sunday school-----Life really was good.
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