Unforgettable farmhouse hatching chicks

Every year, when the flowers bloom in spring, grandmother put the largest broken side of the family tile basin in the quiet corner of the old house, the basin was lined with soft wheat straw to make a good nest for the old hens to hatch their chicks.

When the dandelion does a little mother, holding their children in the wind, the old hen is lazy and reluctant to move, feathers exploded a fluffy, hometown people call it "fried nest chicken", which is a signal that the old hen wants to be a mother. Once the family had a fried nest chicken, grandmother made arrangements for hatching chicks, when the hens started laying eggs one after another, grandmother received fresh eggs into the wheat straw tile basin, estimating that there were twenty or so enough to hatch a nest of chicks, before letting the fried nest chicken lay on, if nothing happened, twenty-one days later was the day the chicks came out of the shell.

Hatching chicks with eggs in addition to fresh, but also fertilized eggs, the family generally fed roosters to do. After six or seven days of incubation, the grandmother would check if the eggs were eggs that could hatch chicks by looking at them in the sunlight; if the eggs had a shadow in the sunlight, the chicks were slowly being bred, and if they were a uniform yellow, they were eggs that could not hatch chicks, so they could be picked out and eat a meal of scrambled eggs, but if they took any longer, they would become rotten eggs that could not be eaten.

At that time, when vendors came to the village, children took eggs in exchange for something, and vendors paid extra attention to whether the eggs they took were hatched or not, each looking into the sun, closing one eye and cracking their mouths, afraid of receiving eggs that were not fresh. Some children do take eggs that have been hatched in exchange for something, but they are usually recognized by the vendor, and the clever vendor can tell by the look of the eggs and the child's demeanor whether the eggs were stolen from under the hen, and some children are so naughty that they really have the experience of stealing eggs from under the hen.

It is not easy for the nesting hen to quietly guard the birth of her child, as still as a statue, and the grandmother has to remember to control it as she waits for her baby, fixed at an hour every day to drag out the old hen to reward food to eat, to see that she has drunk enough water before allowing her to continue to lie on the eggs, and this time can not be too long, in order to ensure that the eggs are constant temperature, sometimes the old hen is eating and drinking at the edge of the tile basin, a little pacing will She paces a little and then lies down in the basin.

It is not easy for a hen to be a mother. Sometimes the family does not want to hatch chicks, so they do not give her the chance to be a mother.

The hen cherishes the opportunity to be a mother, and for twenty-one days she waits quietly and silently for her child to be born, guarding the eggs from the cats and mice, and using her hard wings to protect the eggs, and if her master puts more eggs on her, she is even more vigilant, lest the eggs vaguely exposed outside her wings be lost, and her occasional The occasional "cluck-cluck" sound carries a murderous intent.

By the day the chicks come out of the shell, there is a restlessness in the air, grandma worried that the chicks can not come out smoothly, but also worried that the chicks can not adapt to the sudden spring cold, that really moved the little feet pacing around the yard, there is a moment, the air so quiet, there is the sound of falling rain hitting the porcelain bowl, eh, the chicks are pecking at the shell, how surprising! The yellow chicks came out like little mushrooms, huddled under the hen's wings, their little eyes opened to survey the new world, and the sound of "twittering" brought the whole yard to life.

Grandma was busy, sometimes taking the chicks to the hot bed to cover them, sometimes taking them to the afternoon sun to sunbathe, and after about a week, the gradually rejuvenated hen took the chicks out to take up the important task of leading them to grow up, and the picture was touching. She does not eat, she only eats things that the chicks cannot bite.

When there is danger, the old hen spreads her wings to protect the chicks under her wings and is sure that it is safe to let the chicks go free. The chicks run away from her and come back, much like a child who is pampered by her mother.

Slowly, the chicks grew wings, distinguishing which is the flowery chicken and which is the pure white chicken; slowly, distinguishing which is the little hen and which is the little rooster. The chicks are like children who have grown up and traveled far, aspiring to poetry and faraway places. They do not want to be sheltered by their mothers anymore, they want to run on their own, and the old hen has finished her mission and is shaking her feathers with great loss, so lonely in the sun.

At sunset, the chicks go home one after another, and the old hen is the last to enter the nest, still fulfilling her mother's responsibilities. Slowly, watching the chicks do have the ability to protect themselves, the old hen starts laying eggs again, giving her little strength to a family's daily routine.

When the old hen is too old to lay eggs, she will be made into chicken soup for the women who have had their first month of pregnancy. When a woman is in labor, her mother-in-law will look for old hens, kill them, and stew them, so that the woman will have milk to feed her child and nourish her body. The old hen, meditatively blessed every little mother, perhaps, it knows that it is not easy to be a mother, perhaps, in its own way to interpret the mother's love to the extreme, regardless of life and death.