Chicken, Homemade Jam & Music

My Mother and biological Dad had a short marriage and two small children thirteen months apart.  During World War II, my mother filed for divorce and she, along with my brother and me, moved in with my maternal grandparents, Russell and Lula Snell.
I don't remember ever living with my dad; however I have many fond, precious memories of growing up at 'home', with granny & granddaddy, where there was a lot of love and caring; not just from Mother, Granny and Grandaddy, but Aunt Berta (my mother's sister), and loads of their friends.
Mother had to go back to work to provide our basic needs,  therefore, granny took care of us during the day. Seems like granny was always in her kitchen, or sewing.  Granddaddy raised chickens in the back yard, so we had fried chicken once a week. He never allowed us to watch him kill a chicken, but we watched Granny boil the water and scald the feather's off.  They also had cherry, apple and pear trees plus a large fig bush, so we were never without homemade jellies, jams and granddaddy's homemade wine. And the apple tree, we climbed many times. This girl was a huge tomboy until around the age of thirteen.
Since we lived on a dead end street, there were only eleven houses with plenty of kids around our age. We always had someone to play with (besides each other.) There were hop-scotch grids up and down the sidewalks. Our favorite outside games were; Ring around the Rosy, Blind man's Bluff, Hide 'n Seek, London Bridge...you get the drift; old timey games.
When I was old enough to be enrolled in kindergarten, I went to Catholic School there. Not sure if my brother did or not. It was Sister this, Father that, but I began to learn the Catholic ways. Then I started Lewis Elementary School just one block from my house; so I walked every day...like a BIG girl. I loved elementary school, (unless the principal had to whack my palm with a ruler..but that only happened one time)..and I don't even remember what I did wrong. Oh; probably talking in class.
Mother told me once, after I was grown, that I never was a beautiful child, but my personality bubbled over.
  I do remember singing a solo on stage in kindergarten, an Irish song ;" H-A-double R-I- GAN spells Harrigan, proud of all the Irish that is in me, Pity the man who says a word agin' me...." (can't believe I still remember the words.) But I remember so many of the songs that I sang as a child, most of them taught to me by Granny, Mother or my Dad.
   We were kind of/sort of, a musical family..Mother sang and played piano and ukulele, Aunt Berta played piano, my Dad played piano, guitar, harmonica and had a beautiful voice. Granddaddy had bought an upright piano shortly after he and Granny moved to Raleigh so that Mother and Aunt Berta could take lessons. I played that same piano as a child (only by ear) and kept the piano until 1995. By then it was in pretty beaten shape and totally out of tune. I used to put newspaper behind the felts so that it would make a honky-tonk sound. Never did learn to read music..I wanted to play it 'my way'..:)