tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7741973093767105763.post2283359934565204395..comments2023-05-27T06:41:18.383-04:00Comments on farmhousewife: While you were out.....wtf-eryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231580777535789901noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7741973093767105763.post-12226235174037183382008-08-25T07:46:00.000-04:002008-08-25T07:46:00.000-04:00Anna! I loved your story (about Aunt Nettie) and y...Anna! I loved your story (about Aunt Nettie) and you had me laughing out loud way too early. <BR/><BR/>Wanna donut? :)<BR/><BR/>Thank you!<BR/>(do you have a blog?)amothersheartinwordshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05499202064406243634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7741973093767105763.post-39446562547002961502008-08-24T12:34:00.000-04:002008-08-24T12:34:00.000-04:00I just stumbled upon your blog and am enjoying the...I just stumbled upon your blog and am enjoying the read. I, too have a kazillion tomatoes, no chickens, though.<BR/>Your chicken for dinner reminded me of a story about my uncle. He was a town boy, seriously crushin on a country girl back in the 1940's. He walked the (according to him) 5,427 miles (more like 3 miles) to her house early one summer day. Along about 10am, the girl's mother asked my uncle to go get her a chicken for supper. Being a town boy, wanting to impress the country girl's mother and all, he walked the 5,427 miles back to town, spent his meager pocket change on a chicken, and walked the 5,427 miles back to the farm. Of course, country girl's mamma couldn't figure out what happened to 'that durn boy', so went and got her own chicken. By the time he returned to the farm, hot and sweaty, with that wrapped chicken, he smelled the heavely smell of roasting chicken. He was met with the evil eye...you know the one, that cold, evil stare only a country mamma can give a stupid town boy, and gales of laughter from the girl's brothers. <BR/>When I asked my uncle what ever happened to that country girl, he told me to go talk to Aunt Nettie.<BR/><BR/>I sure enjoy your blog.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7741973093767105763.post-36435221558723826262008-07-30T08:30:00.000-04:002008-07-30T08:30:00.000-04:00Ah yes, but I have no NEED for TWO roosters (3, ac...Ah yes, but I have no NEED for TWO roosters (3, actually...) so, the hens live, the roosters will be supper. ;0)amothersheartinwordshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05499202064406243634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7741973093767105763.post-83524401152913761262008-07-26T11:24:00.000-04:002008-07-26T11:24:00.000-04:00Rooster is NOT the best one a hen is better. Cut h...Rooster is NOT the best one a hen is better. Cut head off while wearing clothes that don't mind blood. Let it flop until done. dip into scalding boiling water by the feet. Pluck it. Gut it. Oh forgot feet come off unless you need handles hahaha.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com