Linda Bradley, UK

My grandad kept hens; they were a huge part of his and my life. I practically lived with my grandparents so helped with the chickens daily.  My grandad was poor so the eggs were a huge boost to the larder, eggs and rabbit odd roast chicken were a staple.

The hens were kept in a large shed with  indoor nest boxes and perches - about 25 of them. They had a deep sawdust bedding which was only changed when absolutely necessary. The shed had lots of windows covered in thick cobwebs. The two doors were opened every morning usually by me. I loved the noise as they all piled out. A fond memory is my grandad digging his garden and calling the hens every time he found a worm or insect. Watching the hens run always made me laugh and we had to make sure each had their fair share which with over 20 hens was hard work

A memory I always think of is my grandad and I sat on his pen and he said what do chickens do first when they scratch, peck I said no; they step back and look, and they do he was so proud of his birds I could feel it. I collected the feathers loved the feel of them I liked to pick them up feel under their wings. We spent ages sitting just watching the birds.

The hens ate scraps mostly which was boiled up in a large pan by my nan. When cool I had to carry the pan over to the pen and mix it with layers mix by hand it had a warm yeasty smell and I found it comforting to mix it. The hens appeared to love it. Also a job i liked and disliked too was giving grain which was placed in special feeders. It would have earwigs in the kernels which hens loved but I hated collecting the eggs too it used to worried to take the eggs out from under the broodies they always looked like they were gonna peck. My nan liked me to sort sizes when the eggs were back in kitchen, we used to sort it into colour too which was more of a game really. Once a year the rats had to be sorted hens were locked in any holes blocked up feret dog brought in children were put on shed roofs on the pen and basic lying all he'll let loose as rats came running a out from under hen coop for the dogs to kill.

My view might be biased but our hens were liked if not loved they were a necessity  a reasonably cheap way of producing food. Eaten when old and not laying but greatly cherished for what they provided.

Mark Matthews, 51, Darlington

Remember having to feed the hens at my Grandma's house in Berwick. I was small enough to fit into the hen house so was always "elected" to go in with a bail of corn. I was petrified of the hens pecking at my legs which were bare due to only being 4/5/6 years old and wearing shorts all the time!!

Also called hens "Coochi Ha Ha's" (at that age!)