Even the younger generations
have heard the clichés: There's a fox in the chicken house, take him out behind
the woodshed, whose head is on the chopping block? Chicken houses (technically,
coops), woodsheds and chopping blocks were familiar to Eli and Sofia and their
children and grandchildren, but it occurs to me that the youngster
generations might not know some of the
subtle points behind those clichés.
Start with the chicken house.
When people raised their own chickens, collected the eggs, then ate the tough
old chickens when they were no longer productive, people also kept a chicken
house and a chicken yard. Their birds weren't confined to cages for life like
the birds on commercial farms today. The yard had a gated chicken wire fence
around it that was tall enough to restrain chickens from flying away when their
wing feathers were trimmed so that they couldn't efficiently get off the
ground. The chicken house stood at the
edge of the yard. It had a rectangular footprint, and one end lay outside the
fence. It had a door tall enough for humans to walk in and out. Inside, along each side, were a couple tiers
of shelves holding nesting boxes lined with straw for the chickens. At the far
end of the chicken house, at floor level, was an opening just large enough for
chickens to get in and out. It could be opened or closed
with a panel that slid up or down and was secured with a hook. From that chicken door was a ramp down into the
chicken yard. It was quite an efficient design. When the chickens were outdoors
in the yard, a person could walk in the back door, close the chicken door to
keep the birds outdoors out of the way as much as possible--maybe distracting
them further with a handful of scratch (chicken feed) tossed over the fence-
then raid the nest for eggs or muck out the chicken house for manure to apply
to the garden.
What I don't remember is
whether the folks closed the chicken door at night when the birds were roosting inside.
That would help keep foxes and other predators away. The predators Eli had to
trap were fat, well-fed raccoons that got into the chicken yard by sliding
under the fence where the trickle of a creek ran through the chicken yard. Of
course, as agile as they are, raccoons could also climb over a chicken-wire
fence.
Like a chicken house, every
self-sufficient household had its woodshed, another utilitarian design. Its purpose
was to provide a roof over stacks of firewood to keep it dry enough to burn
all winter. Since slices of logs had to be chopped into wedges small enough to
fit into the fire boxes of wood-burning kitchen stoves or warming parlor stoves,
or shaved down to kindling, the roof of a woodshed had to be high enough to
allow a man to swing an axe or maul. One
large round cut from a stump was set aside to serve as the chopping block. Place
a round of wood on the block, raise the axe, whack! Without a chopping block,
hitting a wedge of wood with an axe would just as likely drive it into the
ground as split it. The chopping block also provided the surface across which
you'd stretch the neck of a chicken to cut off its head when it was time to
butcher. Then, of course, the corpse would run around for a few moments before
it was still--running like the proverbial chicken with its head cut off. And proverbially, the woodshed is where
disciplinarian parent took the miscreant
child to administer a spanking.
I remember Eli's woodshed as
having a roof on poles, but open air on at least one side and end. It may have
had an enclosed portion for storing axes and tools, as well. Johnnie and Vake
each built woodsheds at their houses.
Sandy remembers how Vake
built his. She says," My recollection of Grandpa Eli's
wood shed was just of posts supported a shed roof, shed meaning a single sloped
plane. There must have been corner braces, otherwise it would have
collapsed like a cardboard box does when the ends are removed. Sam
Sampson may have more distinct memories.[He doesn't.]
Dad constructed a shed roof on the
west side of the Berry Lane/Manzanita Street house to shelter firewood.
It was supported on the high side by a ledger beam attached to the house
wall, with rafters sloping down to a beam on the low side. There must have been
plywood on the rafters although in the olden days it would have been wood
boards, spaced for ventilation with wood shakes or shingles on top. Dad's
roof was originally cedar shakes that were later replaced with asphalt or
fiberglass shingles with a granular surface, most likely installed
over a layer of 15# building felt. Four (guessing) posts held the low side beam
up and I suspect that those posts were situated on concrete footing blocks.
When we moved into Mom & Dad's then vacant house, the
original posts were rotting out. Ken Lewis replaced them when we had a
concrete pad poured there, the new posts were supported on steel post bases set
in the concrete which was probably thickened at that outer edge to act like a
footing. There were plywood gussets at the post tops, acting as braces to the
beam.
I'd say this level of detail is much more than any normal
person wants, so you could describe Eli's and Dad's wood sheds like this:
"Simple shed roof structures with wood post supports and cedar shingle
roofing."Maybe you can even lose a word or two from the above.
.
You can't fool me, I know that eggs come from the grocery store!
ReplyDeleteI do remember helping grandpa make cedar shakes during one of the summers that I stayed in Florence during my college days. I recall that there was a technique to get the taper correct, but don't recall the details. It seems that we made many more shakes than were used on the roof, and I'm not sure where the rest went. I vaguely recall grandpa selling (?) some to someone. We also cut some up into kindling for their fireplace (or wood burning insert, more accurately).
I once cut my finger bad while making kindling for them. I think the piece of cedar that I was swigging the hatchet down onto slipped, and the hatchet found my finger instead. Grandma saw it and was horrified. Although it bled furiously, it didn't hurt too much. Fortunately, because cedar splits so easily, the hatchet didn't require a lot of momentum. Otherwise I could very easily have lost a finger!
BIM