Potato Scraps for Chickens-Much love~

I cook all of the time.

I mean all of the time.

I peel potatoes usually three times a week.

I have done this for years and years and years.

We love potatoes.

Yes, we know they're full of starch, but they are a staple food in this household and that's just how it is.

Usually, I peel the potatoes on some paper towels or newspaper on my kitchen table while sitting down.

I learned years ago that if I peel potatoes standing up over a trash can that my back feels like it's going to break-so why not sit down?

Right?

My thoughts exactly.

So getting back to how often I peel potatoes.......

As I was sitting there peeling and peeling and peeling these potatoes the other night a flashback of my childhood arrived and it was quite lovely.

It made me smile.

I made me feel like I was wrapped up in a big blanket of love.

I, swear to you, I could smell the sweet familiar smell of my great Grandma & Grandpa.

This picture, right here, is a picture of Grandpa & myself when I was a little girl. We called him "Gramps."

This picture is one of my favorites and it hangs on my kitchen wall so that I can see it everyday. Remember drinking coca cola out of the glass bottles and then returning them back to the grocery store and getting money back for them? Wow that was a long time ago.......

When I was little my great grandparents had a really big chicken coop.

I spent so much time in that chicken coop.

Not only did they have one chicken house they had three and then the entire place was fenced in with chicken wire.

So it was a big space for chickens to run around, fight with each other, and just be chickens!

They also kept rabbits out there that were huge, cuddly, and so messy.

Anyways, anything that was leftover from breakfast, lunch, and dinner went to the chickens for scraps.

Again, getting back to my "peeling potatoes' story.......

So, as I was peeling each potato, at my kitchen table the other night, and was noticing the mound of peelings mounting, all of a sudden, I had this very strong urge to cut the top off of a empty milk gallon jug like grandma and grandpa used to do, load it with potato scraps, and run out to the chicken coop and feed the chickens my potato scraps.

I hadn't thought about feeding the chickens potato scraps in years.

Why, all of a sudden, after all of the potatoes that I have peeled, did this memory so strongly give me the urge to put my grandpas leather boots on, run out to the coop, and feed the chickens?

I don't know the answer to this, but for whatever reason that this thought decided to pop up in my mind this week, I loved it and it gave me that warm fuzzy feeling of how much I loved growing up with my great grandparents and the chickens.

I never thought that potato scraps could be so full of love?

Toodle-loo

Nikki Pugh