As far as I can remember, every family in my childhood hometown had to raise a few chickens. On the one hand, eggs can supplement the family, on the other hand, when there are holidays or relatives and friends come, you can kill one or two and enjoy them beautifully. At that time, chickens were all free-range, and there was no henhouse. Hang a few cross bars under the eaves casually, and find a small rafter to climb sideways at dusk. Chickens will climb to the shelf along the rafters, line up next to each other to rest, and then remove the rafters to prevent wild cats from disturbing them. There is a broken backpack hanging in the corner, with some wheat straw in it, which has become a chicken nest. Some farmers will use adobe to build a narrow alley, seal it tightly and use it as a chicken house. Drive the chicken in at night, block the entrance, and compact it with wooden boards to prevent the weasel from sneak attack at night. Some people are lazy, so they let the chickens live on the fruit trees in the yard.
Chickens were easy to raise at that time. Early in the morning, the women in Zaocun came back with water, opened the sealed chicken cooing door, and the chickens swarmed out. The village women were carrying dustpans and shouting "Meng-lotus root-moo-moo-moo". The chickens scurried impatiently around the village women and sprinkled some sticky rice casually to fill their stomachs. Those chickens that live in chicken racks and fruit trees have already flown to the ground to feed. Farmers are busy, and chickens are walking happily in the courtyard dam.
March and April of the lunar calendar is the peak season for spawning. A hen lays an egg a day, which is very safe. There is a joke circulating in the village: two village women boast about their hens. One repeatedly said, "My hen can lay eggs, one a day, one a day"; The other said slowly, "can you call?" My hen is half a day old ... one, half a day ... one! This made everyone around you laugh. I think this joke came into being in this season. Because chickens are free-range, some farmers don't even have a decent nest, so hens often lay their eggs in grass nests or other people's nests The hostess didn't see an egg for several days and mistakenly thought that her hen was fanning the nest (dialect: holding the nest). I remember when I was a child, I once came to my backyard to pick up wormwood and found seven or eight eggs lying quietly in a round grass nest. I was very surprised. I quietly picked it up and put it snugly in the wheat cupboard. Then I took it and changed some pencils.
The hen who laid eggs jumped out of the henhouse, blushed proudly and shouted: I didn't (mo) step on the egg ... I didn't step on the egg ... A red rooster peeped at the fence for a long time and suddenly screamed and laughed excitedly: Oh, my God ... I know! Then he flew to the hen's side, with a whisper in his throat, gentle and tender, one leg twitching rapidly and stretching his left wing like a spasm. Then he spread his right wing, wiped the ground and drew a beautiful semicircle, jumping and hugging, and the hen quickly squatted on the flat ground. The rooster can't wait to jump on the hen's back, bite the hen's little crown and flap his wings and ass hard. The hen shook her feathers, the cock stretched out his hands and feet and began to eat happily again.
After the crazy laying period in January and February, hens began to fan their nests. The hen who stirs the nest is like a drunk, dull, always loving the nest and not eating. There is an old saying in my hometown: when my mother-in-law meets her son-in-law, she is like a hen fanning her nest. The mother-in-law was as happy as drunk when she saw her son-in-law. This is the most appropriate metaphor. As soon as the hen fanned her nest, it was time to hatch her chicks. The women in the village are very clever. They hold the eggs in their hands, shake them and listen to them in their ears. With experience, they can identify which eggs can hatch. Then put the picked eggs into the henhouse, and the hen who fanned the nest squatted in the henhouse all day, warming every egg with her body and quietly waiting for the arrival of her children. Unless you are very hungry, you will occasionally jump out of the henhouse, eat wildly in a panic, and then rush back to the nest quickly. This kind of maternal love once touched me deeply. Hens only eat a small amount of food every day for more than 20 days in order to hatch their children! At about 2 1 day, the hen cooed softly and the chicken hatched. The chicken is yellow, furry and cute. After three or four days, hens can walk around with their chicks. Occasionally, an eagle swoops down from a distance, and the hen quickly calls her children and shelters them under her wings. Suddenly, her whole body swelled a lot. She stared at the eagle intently and bravely faced ... what a great maternal love! When danger comes, she always protects her children and forgets her own safety.
At present, there are fewer free-range chickens in rural areas, and more are kept in houses. Because the scale of house feeding is larger, the economic benefit is much better. There are many "laid-off chickens" sold in the market, with rotten fur and eggs lacking the flavor and fragrance of the past. Hens don't have the rooster lay eggs. There are no more chickens that run in the wrong nest and lay the wrong eggs. It is difficult for children in the city to see the scene of hens protecting chicks.