chickens

When we went to my father's sister Myrtle's farm where she lived with her husband and a daughter Erma and a son Wilbur they put a chicken or two in a gunny sack and put them in the backseat of the car with us kids, They chickens were alive and pecked my sister Helen so she did not like to be in the backseat with them and must have been moved to the front one with my parents. I am not sure which of my parents chopped off their heads with an axe. I think my father did Then my mother had to clean them. You know take the insides out. My dad had several brothers but only one sister. My mother plucked the feathers, washed them real good and then roasted them. I had a class in high school where we had to do everything but kill them. I did not like chickens for awhile. I do now especially drumsticks.