The day the chicken started squawking

The day the chicken started squawking

Every time we have a chicken dinner a memory of 1951 comes to my mind. My first memories were on a small 40-acre farm north of Orland. Grandpa had a small herd of cattle, several horses, a tractor, and a large barn to store hay. Grandma had chickens, two turkeys, two pigs, and lots of flowers. Dad had a place to work on his welding projects on days off from working at Holly Sugar in Hamilton City. Mom, mostly a city girl, was learning about life…