NaBloPoMo # 13 The Way It Was

Barn at Evening

In a drive across Banner Mountain, recently, I snapped this photo of a barn that’s been part of the landscape for a number of years.  I can’t say how old this barn is. But it is still in good condition and speaks of times gone by.

Many of my poems tell about the way of life at Banner in my early years. When I was a child, my folks owned a cow named “Buttin’ Jerse.” She would butt people if she got a chance.  I don’t think she had horns, but we kids stayed out of  the barn lot, out of her reach. She was the only mean cow my folks ever owned. I remember another cow named “Hawkins.” She was given the last name of the man who sold her to Daddy. She was a good cow. She gave lots of milk.
When I was a child, I didn’t need to take a field trip with my class to visit a farm.  I lived on one, and I thought everyone else did, too. Mama and Daddy grew an abundance of vegetables in their garden. We had an orchard of peaches and apples. Daddy butchered  hogs each year. We had chickens for eggs and for meat.
To serve chicken for dinner, Mama killed a chicken by wringing its neck.  You know that expression,  “I could wring his neck?”  Mama really did “wring the neck” of a chicken!
That’s something I’ve never had to do.  And I’m glad! But if I had to,  I might could do it.
Could you?

To be continued . . .

© 2013 Freeda Baker Nichols

At my book signing today, at the Dirty Farmers Market,  I sold and autographed a couple of  books. Not many, but people who visited were friendly and were busy buying the handmade crafts that are displayed in the first half of the shop. The back half of the shop contained fresh produce as well as a café serving homemade soups, breads, desserts and coffee. Also baked goods were for sale. The aroma from all these goodies was certainly tempting as I sat waiting for someone to buy a book. By selling two books, visiting, handing out cards and inviting people to check out my blog,  I consider the event successful.  Thanks to the Farmer’s Market for being wonderful hosts. It was a pleasant afternoon.

tomatoes & butternut squash

tomatoes and butternut squash

Freeda Baker Nichols (2)

Freeda Baker Nichols at Book Signing
at Farmers Market

The Old Black Rooster

The Old Black Rooster

The Old Black Rooster









The old black rooster crows at early dawn.
He causes Farmer Joe to wake and yawn.
The crowing starts before the break of day.
At night, the rooster roosts high in a tree.
Joe needs to milk the cows without delay.
The old black rooster crows but not on key.
He causes Farmer Joe to wake and yawn.
The old black rooster crows at early dawn.

c Copyright 2013, Freeda Baker Nichols

(Note: Today’s poem,  a Lil Ann form, is based on a poem written by my sister, Yvonne Hall. The first line is from her creation. Not only is she a good artist, she could be a poet, too. The rooster in the photo belongs to our sister, Emma Jean.  This poem is reminiscent of our childhood on Banner Mountain.)