"Peppy" strikes again! Looks like my brother's pet rooster just had a roll in the hay with that tail exiting right (DJ could correct me on this). In our early to mid-years in the project ('43-50) we tried several farm projects in the backyard to supplement our diet. First a vegetable garden and then the chickens.
I'm suprised the free ranging dogs, cats and local swamp critters didn't wipe out our little flock.
But maybe we should thank tough little Peppy in defending his harem. The trouble was that Peppy fiercely defended his territory against all comers, including us kids. We had to run his gauntlet whenever we wanted to collect some eggs. I guess my brother or father did the honors; I was too scared of him.
One day Peppy pecked my father one too many times. Maybe the "Old Bull" (as my mother called him) was in a bad mood. He grabbed a big stick and clubbed Peppy to purgatory. Later that afternoon my brother came home and let out a scream when he opened the fridge. He knew at once that plucked carcass there was his beloved Peppy.
I thought Peppy tasted pretty good and there was extra for me since DJ stuck to scrambled eggs.
Notice the trim white picket fence and little tool shed with drums of heating oil. Everything was built by Dad from discarded materials left at his job as a journeyman electrician. That's the kitchen window opened above cans for seedlings, I believe.
Our home looked a little rough around the edges compared to the sleeker, modernized version in the photo below. But that one looks so sterile. Ours looks really lived in with a pride of ownership. But, of course, we were only renters at $55/month as an "upper income" project dweller!
