Life is a Journey
Cubert, as a young boy, remembers the time an insurance salesman showed up at their house. It was a place with a large fenced-in yard and there were chickens, goats and a little Rat Terrier dog named Skippy. All this mixed in with Cubert and his siblings all roaming as free-range spirits in the confines of that yard - all. It would be an understatement back in that day to say his mother was busy as a housewife and mother of four and one of those a baby, Shelby. There was always something needing to be attended to.
All the clothes to be washed was no small task, plus ironing - the preacher’s wife must have her children’s clothes ironed in that day - plus meals to prepare, cleaning, gardening, canning, gathering eggs, goats to feed. All these things she had juggled quite well. On occasion she made cheese and it was put in a clean old stocking and hung on the clothesline to strain out all the moisture. Now chickens are not as dumb as many might think for when they saw the young housewife come out headed to the line with that stocking, they ran to the very spot where the drippings fell and Cubert, laughing, said they would peck a hole into the ground trying to get it all. So even chickens have a love of certain foods over others.
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