Bon Appetit!


My great-grandmother
Beulah Irene
kept chickens,
1 Rooster and some Hens
and on the day the meat ran low
She took Rooster's bride of the day
and then
grabbed Henny by the neck and swung
round and round until it was wrung
CHOP
then feathers pulled and yanked
into the pot that chicken sank
Bon Appetit!
she claimed that night
as Rooster stood upon a stump and sighed
looking in at the table trying not to cry
as He stared at a plate of that day's bride.






My great-grandma Beulah once told us stories of how good we have it. At 19, in the 1920's she married my great-grandfather and they raised chickens, killed chickens and ate chickens, made butter and bread and did what we would have to do if we didn't have the good-ol-grocery store. I am so thankful for the Grocery store. . .


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Comments

Mommy Emily said…
LOL
wow. so creative and gruesome at the same time :) xo
November 4, 2010 at 11:36 AM
Anonymous said…
hi alexis! o, this is funny! what a site...and the poor rooster too.
November 4, 2010 at 11:48 AM
Paul C said…
Takes me back to my farm yard youth where I saw the brutal event several times. Well done.
November 4, 2010 at 12:02 PM
Claudia said…
my uncle used to have hens as well..i never liked them that much (my first love were the cows..i tried to teach them to speak...without success...)
your poem is creative and..agh..the bride..even if i don't like hens...i mean...
November 4, 2010 at 12:59 PM
Carrie Van Horn said…
This is a wonderful and rough remembrance....i have the same memory with a lady that had a farm that kept me when i was a child....they only bought coffee sugar and flour at the store everything else they provided for themselves...it was quite an amazing thing....like you i am glad for the grocery store. :-)
November 4, 2010 at 12:59 PM
Helen said…
My childhood memories mirror yours .... I am thankful to have them. All that chicken, butter, milk, cream, veggies, pork, etc.

Nicely written.
November 4, 2010 at 1:43 PM
Barb said…
First of all - I LOVE the name Beulah Irene! The poem stirred a long-ago memory for me: I had an Easter chick that grew in a back yard pen to be a lovely white chicken. One Sunday, after chicken was served for dinner, I went outside to play. Chicky was gone - forever. I immediately had a bad stomach ache!
November 4, 2010 at 3:32 PM
Southern Gal said…
We have similar stories in our family of grands, great-grands. Now my parents raise chickens. I'm waiting to see if they actually get around to killing some of them. Seeing as my mama has named them all, I highly doubt it.
November 4, 2010 at 3:56 PM
christine said…
Very nicely written and the CHOP was so final.
Poor hen but tasty I am sure!
November 4, 2010 at 4:16 PM
Kristen Haskell said…
That was a great poem! I totally agree, I too am extremely thankful for grocery stores. I know I could handle kill my own dinner. I am too much of a whimp!
November 4, 2010 at 6:22 PM
Kristen Haskell said…
I meant couldn't handle. My fingers can't keep up tonight!
November 4, 2010 at 6:23 PM
Wanda..... said…
These times are better in many ways, but the nostalgic memories are wonderful. Your great grandmother, Beulah Irene's life sounds exactly like my g/m Myrtle Louise's life!
November 5, 2010 at 3:44 AM
Nancy said…
I always love stories that preserve the past, that give us a glimpse of how different our grandparents' experiences in daily life were. Well written. I'm so glad her name was Beulah Irene. You just can't make up a name like that. Great seeing you here again.
November 5, 2010 at 6:12 AM
Jodi said…
Alexis, a friend of mine tells a similar story. She watched her grandpa prepare a chicken. She said that's why she's a vegetarian. I raise chickens, but I eat them, too. :)
November 5, 2010 at 8:48 AM
Myrna R. said…
I'm a vegetarian. As a child I did witness these killings, though I didn't realize their full impact 'til much later.

Really nice magpie.
November 5, 2010 at 1:41 PM
Tumblewords: said…
So true. The good ol' days weren't that great in many ways, I think! Great piece.
November 5, 2010 at 3:13 PM
Beth said…
Just like Nancy, I like stories that preserve family history. I also like hearing the names of those older generations. Beulah Irene---you don't forget a woman with that name!
My grandmothers were Cora and Blanche. I always think of a coral island and blanching something in the first stages of cooking. They fit those images too.
Great story!
November 6, 2010 at 8:03 AM
Brian Miller said…
aww...you make me feel sad for the poor groom...smiles.
November 6, 2010 at 12:47 PM
Linda Bob Grifins Korbetis Hall said…
your tale hits home.
love it.
cheers,
xxx
November 6, 2010 at 8:16 PM
signed...bkm said…
So many dead brides this week....chicken genocide this Magpie....now cooked into chicken pot pie....bkm
November 8, 2010 at 5:14 PM
Rachna Chhabria said…
Aww...you make me feel sad for the poor chicken.
November 9, 2010 at 2:58 AM
Unknown said…
love this,
I sort of vegetarian, but I get this. I wonder if it's less cruel than some of the places they raise in mass quantity.
November 10, 2010 at 12:13 PM
Arslan said…
nice little piece....i liked it!
November 12, 2010 at 12:32 PM
Mommy Emily said…
thanks for your comment, beautiful alexis. love to you. xo
November 15, 2010 at 9:27 PM
Unknown said…
hope you are having a joy filled thanksgiving
November 26, 2010 at 5:42 PM
Connie Arnold said…
Great poem, Alexis! Reminds me of when I was a child, holding and petting a chicken then watching my aunt take it and wring it's neck. I couldn't eat that chicken, and like you, I'm thankful for grocery stores!
December 4, 2010 at 2:10 PM
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