I consulted my antique Eschelman’s “Everything You Need to Know about Chickens” book and came away with the idea that, by her appearance and the way she was behaving, the hen was egg bound.…
I consulted my antique Eschelman’s “Everything You Need to Know about Chickens” book and came away with the idea that, by her appearance and the way she was behaving, the hen was egg bound.…
We left the city to take the Taconic Parkway to the “Rip Fan Vinkle Buddige” as Aunt Ruta called it. Later, we passed through Middleburg and Cobleskill and smaller towns like Preston Hollow and Lawyersville. I’d been making this trip so often that the Corvette almost knew its way by heart.…
When Aboud arrived in New York, he couldn’t speak a word of English. He’d enter an eatery and cluck like a chicken in order to get a plate of scrambled eggs. Life was rough, but much better than back in Aleppo.…
We lived in Bensonhurst, in a 12-room Victorian that had been divided into apartments. I occupied the second floor with my dad, while Chickie and his wife and two babies lived on the first floor and my Aunt Edna and Uncle Dave and their sons Leo and Charlie lived on the attic floor. There was also Mr. Bilideau, the boarder, who was a leftover from the time when my grandmother had rented rooms. There had once been a Mr. Yumtov…
I was a late starter at deer hunting because I moved back to Brooklyn just before I turned 16. It was while in the Army and reading Hemingway and Faulkner that I got the bug to hunt whitetails on Panther Mountain with my old friend Gerard in Richfield Springs.…
Once a year, Dad would let the Buick down and get it started, not without a lot of trouble. It was always a group effort. Roger’s father and a couple of other guys on the block would help push it out onto the driveway. They’d inflate the tires and trickle gas into the carburetor.…
I knew they didn’t like American soldiers in Germany, but I didn’t encounter unfriendly vibes from the French until attending the Running of the Bulls in July of 1966 in Pamplona, Spain. I am a Francophile, due to my maternal grandmother’s origin being a French mountain village in the province of Auvergne.…
I was working on construction in a high-rise building in lower Manhattan. My partner, “Roidney” Bunion, was 10 years younger than me, an ex-football player and a product of the “tune out and turn on” generation.…
Life Sketches by Terry Berkson Retired Poultry FarmerRecalls ‘Roger’s Colossus’in Face of Avian Flu Epidemic Recently, Roger and Diane Vaughn—who operated the only small commercial poultry farm situated along the Route 20 corridor between Albany and Syracuse—retired. Theirs was one of about 15 remaining egg-laying operations in the state. At one time, there were 15 small farms like theirs within a 15-mile radius. Then, the average setup consisted of about 300,000 birds, which made the Vaughns’ flock of poultry look…
Life Sketches by Terry Berkson Made in the Shade: There’s More Than One Way to Curb a Rooster I once had this beautiful tropical fish that was mutilating and eating up the rest of the fish in the tank. It looked like he would have to be flushed down the drain, but before doing so, I tried threading a piece of dental floss through his tail with a sewing needle to create a drag that would slow him down when…