Friday, September 25, 2009

Bees and Bunnies

Gene raised bees. He would dress me up in his beekeepers suit and send me in to collect the honey. He made me feel it was an honor that he would allow me to collect his honey. Gene took care of the rabbits. I loved the baby bunnies and it seemed we were always having them. Holding a baby bunny is one of the softest warmest experiences of my young life. I didn't like it when they killed the rabbits and took their skins off. I knew we needed the meat to eat and the money we got when they sold the furs, but I will never forget the squeal of a rabbit being killed.

How traumatic for a young girl to see her warm fuzzy bunnies murdered and skinned. I cannot even imagine witnessing this as an adult. A child of the depression had to grow up in a hurry. Was brother Gene, pictured above with his mother Helen in 1930, really trying to honor his little sister by letting her collect the honey or just avoid getting stung himself?

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