Back in the 30's and 40's it was common at Easter for kids to get baby chicks in their Easter baskets with the eggs. The chicks were dyed in all different colors too, and cute as could be. Unfortunately I don't imagine most of them lived very long with them being played with - probably not easily either.
One year Tom and I got one. She was pink and just darling. We were so careful with her and she survived. We named her Biddy. Biddy grew into the biggest chicken you ever saw. Just huge. Of course the pink was gone and she was solid white. I don't think she understood that she was a chicken. Probably more like a dog. She followed us around the house all day and anytime someone sat down, she jumped up to nestle in their lap.
The day finally came when we decided that having a chicken in the city in an apartment just didn't work, so we took her to our grandparent's  farm. 
We put her in the area with all the other chickens. That didn't work either, because not knowing she was a chicken she didn't understand pecking at the ground all day, laying eggs, and ROOSTERS. We had to put her in the fenced yard alone. That was okay, though, because she could follow my grandparents and visitors around (and we were there a lot), and  if anybody sat down, she'd jump up in their lap.
It was a sad day when Biddy finally went to chicken heaven.

A while ago Many years ago A few years back we had quite a bit of the Hanson family at the Hanson Family Shores (The cabin on Dewey Lake). At the time, there existed an aluminum boat. It had a closed bow and three wooden plank seats (or was it two?). Funny, I can't remember how many seats but I recall that it had the name 'Cadillac' on it. It was used heavily for fishing and if everyone in the boat coordinate their movements, it could accommodate 3 people. This particular summer day, someone suggested that we go fishing and EVERYONE wanted to go. The group attempted to get paired down and the best anyone could come up with was seven. I remember someone, (can't remember who), volunteered to remain back. I also remember, (again can't remember who), suggesting that we could all make it, no problem. So after some careful planning (sarc) seven of us with our gear managed to get into the boat and start motoring off. If memory serves, Paul, Kyle, Big Dave, Little Dave, Andy, Denny, and I were the passengers of the SS Minnow. I envisioned images of the Keystone Cops with about 12 guys hanging on to a car, arms flailing, and general disorganization. While the boat did float, it's speed was noticeably slower than normal. We fished our way around some of the lake and got into a little bay at the far end. All I can remember at this point is hearing the sound of a base drum, turning to see what undoubtedly was two people (brother-in-laws) falling back to back and thinking that the angle of the boat's bow was unusual. Turning to look back again, I saw water starting to stream over the side in the rear corner. Seconds later, we are all swimming. Paul, who was probably 12 at the time, said, "What should I do with these?" and holds a tackle box up in each hand. I suggested he not let go. I believe the kids had on life jackets so that was not a concern. The kids went to the shore which was about 10 yards away while the adults tried moving the boat to shore. We tried swimming with it for a bit of time, seemingly making no progress. I do remember watching bubbles stream from the motor and a bunch of gurgling noises. About this time, Davy shows up in his boat and was standing on his foredeck, towering over us watching us work. I don't recall an offer of help, just a smile. A little later he suggests that we would probably do a better job if we got the anchor off the bottom and put it in the boat. AArrgghh!! Once we got the anchor, moving the boat to shore WAS significantly easier. Once at the shore, we raised the boat onto a dock in an effort to tip it over and drain the water from it. As we're doing this, what I assume is the owner comes over to us. Apparently, they were in their yard watching the show. We apologized for using his dock. I'll always remember what he said. "Don't worry. It happens all the time." 
After draining the boat was the big fear of how messed up the engine was. Three pulls later, some of us are motoring back to the dock in the 'Minnow'. The good thing, the boat was much cleaner!
I'm sure my recollection differs from some of yours. I would love to hear how.

One year, long ago, a friend of mine, Diana and I went to visit Scott and Linda in Climax Springs where they were teaching at the time. We went there for the girls to visit and us to get ready for deer season. While we were driving around in Scott's pickup checking out the area, Jesse (I believe the name was) was running from side to side in what I would describe as a frenzy. As we were traveling down a gravel road ( as all but one was in Climax Springs) at about 40 MPH. The road had steep shoulders and there was tall grass right next to the road.  I asked Scott if he was worried about the dog falling out of the truck. He looks at me, smiles and said, "No, she's never fallen out and loves to go for rides in the truck." Literally, about 5 seconds after that, I noticed movement in the rear view mirror. I turned to see the dog rolling down the shoulder like a tire into the grass. I said, "Scott, the dog just fell out of the truck!" He whips around, sees an empty bed and slams on the brakes. Gravel goes everywhere. He throws it in reverse, backs up to where the dog tumbled out and slams on the brakes. Gravel goes everywhere. Scott was shaken. Scott says, "That was Linda's dog. She's gonna kill me." We all tumble out of the cab and rush into the grass. We started combing everywhere. I notice movement out of the corner of my mind and look up on the road. The dog was staggering around like she was drunk. Scott lifted her into the back of the truck where she laid down and didn't move a muscle the rest of the trip.

I was a young teen when my friend's brother came to town.  After talking for a while, we decided to go on a date. We decided on a movie. Tom (4 years younger than I) had been listening and said he wanted to go too.  Well, he did. I can't remember if he sat between us or not.
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i saw it sexy young man iwas at his wedding

Sometime in the late 60's, the Unc had a disaster involving a tornado at his house in Farmington. I remember getting a phone call, mom saying, "Oh no! We're coming!" We frantically packed some things, got in the car, and on the way mom told me the Unc's house was hit by a tornado. We arrived just a little before dark and noticed a bunch of cars going up and down the country road that was usually pretty quiet.  We pulled in the driveway and saw the Unc sitting outside in a chair. He explained that there were looters everywhere and he was just trying to be visible. As it got dark, I seem to remember he set up some lights in the yard and said that he and I would go to a friend's house to get a shower. Mom asked what she should do. The Unc told her to be visible and he gave her a revolver. He told her that if she had it she will be ok. We showered and returned and there was mom looking alert holding the revolver. The Unc took it and she said, "I was really worried about shooting myself" (or something to that effect). The Unc said, "I wasn't worried. It wasn't loaded!"

Memories of the tornado's effects:
I remember the house had the whole roof removed except for the bedroom and bathroom. The kitchen had a wall missing but the grocery list was still on the table. Part of the chimney, about 2 feet, was removed and balanced on a 2x4 laying across the roofless walkway (like a short hallway). I remember being told not to walk there. The worst part was the Unc sold the house and was about to move. Needless to say, the sale was off. He rebuilt and sold for more. Stories of grass being driven into phone poles and cows being run through with wood were everywhere. Tornadoes are weird.

Related to the same Colorado trip mentioned here, one of the Tom-Dad competitions left some of us really laughing. We went to a restaurant for breakfast. The parking lot was such that there were a row of spots in the middle of traffic going in opposite directions. Tom came in the lot from one place and dad entered from another. They both saw the same spot at the same time. The race was on! Dad going from the south, Tom coming from the north. Tom got there just a little faster but a little too 'hot'. He hit the car next to the empty spot. I remember seeing that car bounce. I honestly can't remember if, to add insult to injury, if dad got the spot too or if he gave it to Tom. You can imagine what we joked about for the rest of that week.

When I was younger than about 12 or so, we used to vacation with another family. Dad. mom and I would be in one car and The Morrow's, Tom, Rosie, Vicky and Tommy would be in another. I remember one trip to the west (Colorado) that we took. Apparently, there was always some bet going on between dad and Tom. I guess this one had to do with gas mileage. Dad had a Grand Prix and Tom had some type of Ford. As a result, as we went in and out of the mountains, we did so with the air off and the windows down. It wasn't too bad, even though it was summer, because we were in the mountains. We had walkie talkies and we would talk with each other between the cars. At one point we were on the highway and we were about to overtake Tom's car. As we got close, I remember dad rolling up the windows and telling us all to look cool. After we passed, we could roll down the windows again. I don't know if the ruse worked, but it sure makes me smile to think about.

I was 18 years old and mom and John took both Linda and me to Germany for a vacation. It was a great trip. It was made even better by some 'occurrences'. As we drove around in our rented car, the folks generally sat in the back and navigated. Linda or I would drive. After driving through several towns, somebody commented how Einbahnstrasse was a popular street name in Germany. Being the only one who knew (very little) German, when I was done laughing , I pointed out how that meant One Way Street. During one 'town navigation' incident, we were kind of lost. All of a sudden, John says, "Follow that statue!" pointing to one at the far end of the street. Finally, Linda was driving, faithfully following directions. People gathered all around the car waving their hands and saying "Stop". Apparently, the directions led her straight onto a walking mall. Lots of good memories from that trip.

After being married to Diana for a few years, we would make a point to go up north every summer. It was a nice break for me. When we visited, I would always make some time to go shooting with some of her family. The first time I took my .44 up there, of course, I had to shoot it. I was talking about how powerful it was, how you could deer hunt with it (handgun hunting was a pretty new idea), and how accurate it was. I kept getting resistance from everybody. We were shooting about 25 yards and having a good old time. As we left and were walking back to the car, we had to walk through a dump.  About a hundred yards off was the top to a washing machine. I told Elmer I could hit it from that distance. He said, "Let me go stand over by it and tell you how short your shot is." I immediately brought the gun up, cocked the hammer and fired. Direct hit! At which point, he was silent for a second (that was a big deal) and he uttered, "Hm". Nobody gave me any grief about handgun hunting after that.