My great love affair with chickens started one summer over 60 years ago. My grandmother always kept hens for eggs, but they were just chickens. My favorite Aunt Mae came to visit one morning and in her coat pockets were two tiny baby Banty chicks. They were mine! They lived in Gramma's kitchen that entire summer, roosting on the back of a chair over newspaper. (Gotta love Grandmothers and Aunts) When it was time to go home for school, my flock was moved to the hen house.
Over the years, I came to stay with my Grandma as often as possible and she always made sure I had a few tiny eggs to fry. I always had a Banty hen in my hair or on my shoulder just as soon as they saw me. I hadn't thought of my flying banty hens in many years. Thanks for the memories!
- L. Bell
