Aunty was from a farming family. we used to go to her parents farm every time we stayed with uncle and aunty. we became very close with both of aunties parents calling them grammar and grandad brooks.
During late summer we would go to the fields and help with the harvest, or more like it hinder.
Life was great around the farm especially in the spring. We had lambs to feed and there were nearly always duck eggs next to the fire waiting to hatch. sometimes we would collect eggs to take back for our tea.
Sis was sent to the farm once to collect some-thing for aunt. She ran there happy to be given such an important job.
On arrival grammar was in the yard feeding the chickens.
Gran: hello my little darling. would you like to pick a chicken?
Sis: Can I really? can I really have one?
Gran: Which one do you want then?
Sis: After a long time choosing, she said the black one please. she loved the poem about the black hen dad used to read.
Gran: yes that's a good one. To her horror gran swooped it up in one hand and rang it's neck in one smooth action.
Sis was heart broken she thought she was getting it as a present, a pet to take home alive, not dead, and not for aunty to cook for tea!
Gran was taken aback and felt bad and sorry for this shaking little girl who was crying uncontrollably. She hadn't thought twice about killing the bird in-front of her, it's what you did if you wanted a chicken dinner.
Sis knew farms had chickens for eggs but surely you got a chicken from the butchers if it was for cooking?
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