The Barnyard

For some reason I have been thinking of Grandpa and Grandma's barnyard, and you all probably have more memories of it than I do.
Grandpa had a wood and barb-wire fence all the way around it, and a big gate. I thought some of the grandkids were very daring to walk on top of this fence. He had some old farm machinery and cars in the barnyard that were fun to play on. Once he told us we could not play in the car, because he had discovered bees were in it and he hadn't had time to do anything about them yet. Dane and Karleta decided they weren't scared of the bees, and got into the car. I was scared of the bees, so went into the house. Mom said, "Go play with Dane and Karleta outside," and I replied, "No, they are playing in the car with the bees." Everyone ran out to the barnyard, but they were too late. Dane and Karleta were covered with nasty bee stings and howling their heads off. Grandma told them that was what happened when you disobeyed Grandpa, and then she put wet mud on their sting marks.
Grandpa always raised a pig. There was a slop bucket by the old wood stove in the kitchen, and kitchen scraps were fed to this bucket, except for meat. Grandpa said we had to be extra careful not to give a pig meat, because it made them mean, and they would try to eat you. He always told me not to play by the pig, because if I fell into the pig sty, the pig would try to eat me. I was terrified of that pig and would not ever go around it unless I was with Grandpa.
Grandma kept a slop bucket even after she no longer had a pig. She would let other families who had pigs come and get it to feed to their pigs, because she didn't want to see anything go to waste.
Grandma had a chicken coop in the barn, and would send Karleta and I out to hunt for eggs. We had a tin can with a wire handle to put the eggs in.
One building was the granary, and we kids didn't have much to do with that, but it did in fact have grain in it.
Sometimes Karleta and I would climb up into the hayloft. Karleta loved to go there, but me, not so much. I was a little creeped out by the sheep skins all over it. Not those tanned sheepskins that you see in western stores, but the ones you could tell had been peeled right off a sheep not that long ago. They were a little too DEAD for me. (city kid)
The horses and cows were kept down by the river in a field, and Grandpa would bring the cows home each night to milk. He had a milk strainer to strain the milk. Grandma would send extra milk to her sisters or other families in town whom she felt needed it.
Mom loved to skim the cream off the milk when we went for the summer. She would spread jam on bread and then cover it with cream, calling it pudding. She said it was because the people in that town were too poor to have any other kind of dessert, but none of us really believed that. We saw other desserts.
One summer when Nene was just little, she kept going out to the barnyard. She could climb through the fence. I don't think she was even two yet. The mean old rooster would see her and come running after her. We wore dresses most of the time then, and he would fly up her dress and peck her on the stomach, leaving a bloody sore. She would come into the house crying, but as soon as she could get out the door again, she would be right back out in the barnyard where the same thing would happen over again.
One day she came in crying when Grandpa was there. He said, "That is the last time that old rooster is going to peck that baby!" and he went out and wrung its neck. Grandma made chicken noodle soup for lunch. The chicken was tough, and the grown-ups laughed and said it was because he was so mean.
One year when we came out for vacation Grandma had a hundred little chicks to raise. Grandpa had a sort of pen made to keep them in, with chicken wire across the top to keep them in. There were little feeders and waterers inside, and the chicks were so fluffy and cute.
My oldest brother was about 2 or 3 and he was fascinated with the chicks. He kept taking off the chicken wire so he could hold one, and of course the other 99 happily escaped into the currant bushes. Someone would raise the alarm that the chicks were out, and we would all be pressed into service to recover them. Grandma had an apron she always wore, and she would pile chicks into the apron as she held it out, and we'd count until all the chicks were found.
Sometimes Grandma or one of her daughters would go out by the pig sty to look for pigweed. Then she would cook it to go with our meals, as a green. The thought of it kind of grossed me out, but Mom made me eat it and it was actually pretty good if you drizzled a little vinegar on it.
We had a lot of fun out in that old barnyard over the years. Now all that is left of it is our memories.