![]() But I digress.) My great-grandma kept white ducks and White Leghorn chickens that she sold to people in town. (It’s unclear whether the women would have wanted to raise any chickens at all if given the option. The husbands would provide money for feed and chicks so the women could “raise as many chickens as they wanted,” as my grandma recalls, and avoid one wife getting jealous of the other for having a bigger income. ![]() Instead of an allowance, my great-grandfather and his brother, another newlywed with a farm nearby, cooked up the idea of building henhouses for their wives. They lived on a farm in North Dakota where farm wives worked just as hard as the men, though they usually had no control of the household income besides what the “man of the house” deigned to give them. Three is plenty.”īefore my grandma was born, my great-grandma Gyda got a wedding present from her new husband. “They’re coming next week! I’ll show you. She scoffed, “I’ll believe it when I see it.” I tried to explain that things had changed since she last had chickens, that most people in cities often only had three to six because of local laws. “You can’t just get three chickens,” she finally said. ![]() “Three!” I was sure that she was shocked by how amazing it was that I was adding so many chickens to my family. ![]() When I told my grandma I was getting chickens, the first thing she did was ask me how many. ![]()
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