After that christmas my mum and dad decided they couldn't eat their own hens
either so we used to swop hens with our next door neighbours. They couldn't
kill their own hens so a man would come to ring the chickens necks on
christmas eve.  Then  I would watch my mum and gran pluck the feathers.
Trouble was I used to play with the hens next door as well. I must have been
a strange child I used to put the hens in my dolls pram and walk with them
down the street. I am rambling now and have only had two glasses of wine.
Must go Sally J

>From: Bob Cooper <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: Re: Happy Christmas
>Date: Fri, 24 Dec 2004 14:30:05 +0000
>
>A-Ha!
>We once ate one of our hens for Christmas too! It was a grumpy old bird
>that
>had stopped laying and it met its end between the chopping block and the
>axe
>in, maybe, 1957...
>It was gruesome - but the worst part was plucking the feathers. On
>Christmas
>Day, as we ate it, I guess it could only have been our children's
>excitement
>over everything else that prevented it being morbid. I don't know. I
>haven't
>forgotten it, tho...
>And, maybe because meat wasn't shrink wrapped and frozen solid when we
>bought it, and freezers weren't part of every home, we were closer to life
>and death...
>Ah, almost time to squidge together tomorrow's nut roast...
>Bob
>
>
>>From: Sally Evans <[log in to unmask]>
>>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>>To: [log in to unmask]
>>Subject: Re: Happy Christmas
>>Date: Thu, 23 Dec 2004 23:18:11 +0000
>>
>>hi Sally -
>>yes and I had a pet pig and we ate him. Another poet friend of mine, Susan
>>Castillo, had the same experience in southern America and she wrote a poem
>>about it which was so uncanny to me - exactly the same!
>>best wishes
>>SallyE
>>  they were on 23/12/04 9:43 pm, Sally James at [log in to unmask] wrote:
>>
>> > 1950 yes I was just a very little girl. It brings back memories  of
>>coal
>> > fires and how I couldn't eat the christmas dinner because it was a
>>chicken I
>> > knew and played with in the back yard. Hmm feel a poem coming on. Love
>>your
>> > poems. Happy christmas SallyJ
>> >
>> >> From: Sally Evans <[log in to unmask]>
>> >> Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>> >> To: [log in to unmask]
>> >> Subject: Happy Christmas
>> >> Date: Thu, 23 Dec 2004 16:34:24 +0000
>> >>
>> >> pale bridge
>> >> sparkling white mountains
>> >> deserted toll booths
>> >>
>> >>
>> >> The Bad Old Days
>> >>
>> >> In 1950 gays were queers
>> >> and there were different tasting beers.
>> >> An alchy was over-fond of his tipple,
>> >> a wheelchair athlete was just a cripple.
>> >> PC was the Bobby on his bike
>> >> and everyone smoked as much as they like.
>> >> You could bash your kids with a boot or a bat
>> >> and a Deviant was someone without a hat.
>> >> Lesbians were Very Peculiar Women
>> >> and come to think of it there were far fewer on em,
>> >> there was no divorce so you just had to bicker.
>> >> Abuse was being rude to the vicar.
>> >>
>> >> Oh don't you wish it was 1950
>> >> when a psychopath was someone shifty,
>> >> Poets wrote poems in a Citadal
>> >> and the rest of us could go to hell.
>> >>
>> >>
>> >> Happy Christmas
>> >> Sally Evans