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Ruffled Feathers
From Chicken Soup for the Soul: My Wonderful Wacky Family
By Holly D. Yount If you want something said, ask a man. If you want something done, ask a woman.
~Margaret Thatcher
For my first seven years of life, our large family lived on a cul-de-sac in Seattle. Our house lay on the outskirts of Sea-Tac International Airport. While our street was in a quiet area, no one would have described it as a "country setting." But, alas, Momma was raised in deep East Texas, and she missed the bucolic lifestyle associated with the rural South. Mom planted a garden. She acquired a pair of ducks named Chuck and Polly. She tended a large blackberry patch, a grape arbor, and three or four apple trees near the back of our property. She lined our yard with strawberry beds, and she even maintained a compost pile. (Keep reading)  
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