Chicken Oil Painting 007  Cerulean Art Gallery
For my mother, living on a small farm in a rural setting, meant, if you wanted chicken for dinner you had to go out to the barn and prepare the chicken yourself. My mother explained that her father was often away working, for long periods of time. Being the oldest, she had to step up and help out with jobs such as this. Nanny had many health issues and often did not feel well, she relied on her oldest child to help out with household chores.
Now, knowing my mother, I found this story hard to believe. She just does not seem like the type of person to conduct such a task, but I believed her. I think when it comes down to it, she did what she had to do. She spared the gruesome details, but shared her feelings of despising this portentous sinister act. In fact, she goes on to tell of when she came to America, she found chickens in the grocery store, plucked, cleaned and butchered, ready to place in the oven. She vowed, she would never cut up a chicken again, and I can say, I never saw her do such a thing.