Dad was hammering away at a chicken house to replace a rickety little run for his favourite Barnevelders and Rhode Islanders. Our offer of a helping hand was steadfastly refused, he didn’t want to be distracted by our waffle and I still hear his: ‘loop me niet voor de voeten’, with other words, don’t stand on my toes get out of the way. He needed all his concentration, his new creation had to be his masterpiece, a residence any well bred chicken or rooster would be proud to live in.

However Jan’s most pleasing acquisition must have been the small electric incubator.
It had room for several dozen fertile eggs and it was dutifull checked for any progress. As a matter of fact, Dad couldn’t keep his fingers off this wonderfull artificial mother hen, and the outcome was the birth of one scraggy, deformed little rooster It grew up to become a very much wanted and loyal pet.
Frank took care of its daily needs and as such it followed him everywhere with its particular weird flapping gait.

Even the ever so strict Mum, tolerated our ‘Machine Flip’, as he affectionately was called. She allowed his presence at the kitchen table, sharing the meals next to Frank. It even inspired his namesake uncle to perpetuate Machine Flip in glorious coloured painting, still in Frank’s possession.