As a boy on "the ranch" we all pitched in to help around the house. One of my favorite tasks was to to find eggs from our chickens to help feed the family. Our hens were not penned. They were free to roam around the area which meant that there was no telling where you may find a nest of eggs.
Behind our house in a large field was the "big house" which had been sitting empty for many years. On the back porch there was the house's bathroom. The rooms facilities was simple compared to the contents of the house itself. I can remember that there was a toilet, a large rug and a bathtub. The tub was one of those huge claw-footed ones that sat off the floor. It was there that one of ours hens had made a nest and it was in this nest that I could usually expect to find her cache of eggs on a regular basis.
The nest had been made of the remains of some hay and pieces of a old rotten burlap sack. I can remember having to "belly up" to the rim of the tub, balance there while plucking the eggs from the nest usually one at a time. Tip-toe, belly-up, lean forward, balance, reach, pluck, shift weight so my feet would find the ground again, place egg on the rug and return to the tub to continue the "trapeze act" until all but one egg were extracted. You always left one egg.... Granddaddy taught me that.. Fooled the hen into laying some more eggs he said.
Early one morning I had made my rounds to gather eggs and as always went to check the tub. Now you also have to understand that this was "the big house" which to a very young boy was a place where you got that uneasy feeling going into it by yourself. You know what I mean... that little prickly feeling that runs up the back of your neck when a touch of fear found you alone in a place dark and kind of spooky... I always did my duty of getting the eggs but I did it as quick as possible and always found a reason to move a little bit faster when leaving there then it had taken me to approach the room.
That morning the sun had not yet really "lightened up" the room and so after approaching the house so as to not wake the spirits that I was sure guarded the place I peeked into the tub. What I thought I saw was only parts of the eggs that appeared to be semi-covered by the old burlap bag. Not a problem, I can remember thinking and proceeded to my bellying up to the tub's rim procedure.
It was then, as I was balanced on the edge and starting to reach for the eggs when I noticed that it seemed, that the eggs were moving? It was also at that time, that the large chicken snake which had found the hens nest and was in the process of enjoying a reward of fresh eggs, raised its head to meet me...
Now.... picture it, a small boy, in a dark room, of a "old haunted house" coming face to face with a chicken snake that MUST HAVE BEEN AT LEAST 20 FEET LONG, at least in the eyes of a 6 year old and me with my feet dangling in the air.
I'm not sure who moved faster, me or the snake... reason? Because the split second it took me to get my feet on the ground, I never looked back. In fact I don't remember anything that happened until I was starting to slow my running and stop to catch my breath about halfway across the field away from the Big House.
I never went back there to check for eggs again....
I am the egg cooker in my home and embarrassed to must admit. But, very once in a while when reaching for the bowl of eggs, even though they are in the refrigerator... I swear I see something moving......
It is now 55 years or so later and I am sitting, writing about this childhood experience at 5.am. You may wonder why? Because at 4:30 am I had the same nightmare I have once or twice a year of me falling "into" that tub and battling for my life the 20 Foot Long Chicken Snake.
Ahhh,,, being raised on a ranch some of it, stays with you forever....
Johnny
Behind our house in a large field was the "big house" which had been sitting empty for many years. On the back porch there was the house's bathroom. The rooms facilities was simple compared to the contents of the house itself. I can remember that there was a toilet, a large rug and a bathtub. The tub was one of those huge claw-footed ones that sat off the floor. It was there that one of ours hens had made a nest and it was in this nest that I could usually expect to find her cache of eggs on a regular basis.
The nest had been made of the remains of some hay and pieces of a old rotten burlap sack. I can remember having to "belly up" to the rim of the tub, balance there while plucking the eggs from the nest usually one at a time. Tip-toe, belly-up, lean forward, balance, reach, pluck, shift weight so my feet would find the ground again, place egg on the rug and return to the tub to continue the "trapeze act" until all but one egg were extracted. You always left one egg.... Granddaddy taught me that.. Fooled the hen into laying some more eggs he said.
Early one morning I had made my rounds to gather eggs and as always went to check the tub. Now you also have to understand that this was "the big house" which to a very young boy was a place where you got that uneasy feeling going into it by yourself. You know what I mean... that little prickly feeling that runs up the back of your neck when a touch of fear found you alone in a place dark and kind of spooky... I always did my duty of getting the eggs but I did it as quick as possible and always found a reason to move a little bit faster when leaving there then it had taken me to approach the room.
That morning the sun had not yet really "lightened up" the room and so after approaching the house so as to not wake the spirits that I was sure guarded the place I peeked into the tub. What I thought I saw was only parts of the eggs that appeared to be semi-covered by the old burlap bag. Not a problem, I can remember thinking and proceeded to my bellying up to the tub's rim procedure.
It was then, as I was balanced on the edge and starting to reach for the eggs when I noticed that it seemed, that the eggs were moving? It was also at that time, that the large chicken snake which had found the hens nest and was in the process of enjoying a reward of fresh eggs, raised its head to meet me...
Now.... picture it, a small boy, in a dark room, of a "old haunted house" coming face to face with a chicken snake that MUST HAVE BEEN AT LEAST 20 FEET LONG, at least in the eyes of a 6 year old and me with my feet dangling in the air.
I'm not sure who moved faster, me or the snake... reason? Because the split second it took me to get my feet on the ground, I never looked back. In fact I don't remember anything that happened until I was starting to slow my running and stop to catch my breath about halfway across the field away from the Big House.
I never went back there to check for eggs again....
I am the egg cooker in my home and embarrassed to must admit. But, very once in a while when reaching for the bowl of eggs, even though they are in the refrigerator... I swear I see something moving......
It is now 55 years or so later and I am sitting, writing about this childhood experience at 5.am. You may wonder why? Because at 4:30 am I had the same nightmare I have once or twice a year of me falling "into" that tub and battling for my life the 20 Foot Long Chicken Snake.
Ahhh,,, being raised on a ranch some of it, stays with you forever....
Johnny
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