Country Writings

Monday, May 15, 2006

When I was a teen-ager in Gravelly, Arkansas, we had, what we called ,chicken frizzes all the time.We would pick a night when we all couldget together at the Dutch reek bridge ,right by the Blue Hole, where we swam all thetime. The boys would go to different houses in the community and steal 2 or 3 chickens.There was a wonderful, running creek under the bridge and we would pick the chickens and clean them andthen fry us up a bunch of chicken to eat. And all the time we would be telling stories, pushng each other into the creek
,just having a good old time. One night, my cousin, Ted, and my brother, Bob, were stealing the chickens and decided that 2 was not enough and tied those two chickens to the fence and went back to get more.My cousin ,Dortha, was not allowed to go with us and one night she was going to let us have a couple of skillets in which to fry the chicken.As she was sneaking the skillets out the back door to one ofthe guys, her mother caught her and they had to give those skillets back!! There was a large, empoty house right by the creek and ne night, when it was cold, we took wood we collected in the woods and built a fire in the fire place ofthe old house andthat night, we fried the chicken in that fire place. I have thought since, how awful it would have been if something had casught fire and the house had burned down, but we were having too much fun to think of thosethings. We didn't need "a joint" to get high in those days. We got high by having justhad great fun being together ,singing, telling stories, a little hugging and kissing . Aw, for the good ole days again!!

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