Afterthoughts

       As a sophomore in Killeen, Texas, I had high hopes for my future. When I started homemaking class, I imagined that someday, far in the distant future, I would get married and raise a family.      When it came time to learn how to sew, that was a different story for me. I did fine when just using the sewing machines at school. Our sewing project was to make an apron, complete with gathered ruffles, long ties, and apple appliqués across the front. It was the kind of apron every homemaking teacher expected a girl to make in the 1950s. When our teacher announced that we could take our projects home and finish them with help from our parents. Everyone seemed excited except me.      The problem was simple. We didn't own a sewing machine, and my mother worked full-time. Because I was in the DECA program, I attended school only half a day and spent my afternoons working at a variety store. The only time I could work on my sewing project w...

  Grandmother Appling     When I was little, Grandmother Appling would go to the chicken coop and pick out a chicken to kill for our meal. As usual, I followed her without any shoes on. Once inside the chicken yard, I regretted not wearing them because almost instantly I felt a soft substance oozing between my toes. Not wanting to miss what I knew was coming, I ignored it.      Once Grandmother found the chicken she wanted, she grabbed it. Instantly, it began to squawk, causing all the other chickens to do the same. Feathers flew everywhere as she took it by the neck and began swinging it in circles above her head. In horror and fascination, I watched as she snapped its neck.      Normally, the neck is broken, and the head doesn't come off. Only this time, it was a small chicken, and she used so much force that it detached from its body. When the headless chicken landed on the ground, it began to run around in circles. Seconds later, it stopp...