Fiona MacLeod, UK

I do remember aged 12 going to work one summer on a hen farm, collecting the eggs every morning. Some of the hens would peck me, so the young lads on the farm found me a pair of thick gloves so that I wouldn't be afraid of getting pecked!!! And one day I dropped the egg basket and was so horrified... my Dad offered to pay the farm owners but they laughed and said they enjoyed eating omlettes for breakfast! I earned £2 per week, and with the money bought myself a good Winter coat (my parents' idea), plus one goat (my idea... And that was the beginning of my goat breeding!!

Eggs were certainly a staple part of our diet... we were fairly poor and a large family. Meat was shepherd's pie once a week and bought cold ham, and roast chicken was really for special occasions like Christmas. My brother kept two hens, which he called Higgeldy and Piggeldy and which were NEVER killed and eaten: they were definitely pets.

We only had chicken meat on special occasions, particularly at Christmas. I remember one time, in Northern Ireland, around 1969, I would have been about 14 then, and my Mum asked me if I would help her kill a couple of chickens for Christmas. She said it was easier to kill them by putting their head under a broom handle, putting my feet either side of the chicken head (on the floor), then just giving a sharp pull up on the chicken body (I don't remember having to rush about to catch the hens... they were in a shed at back of house: I think they must have been bought in order to be killed and cooked). Anyway, I did as instructed! When I pulled up, using all the strength of my young years, to my horror, the chicken head came right off (poor beast!!) and her wings started to flap. I was so shocked I dropped the broom and the now headless chicken which immediately proceeded to walk and wing flap around the shed for quite a few minutes. I was appalled, and have NEVER killed a hen ever again. However I have to say I can't remember refusing to eat the delicious chicken meat that Christmas!

As children we loved being the one getting the wishbone and being able to make a wish...crocking our pinky fingers (little fingers) round the bone, silently making a wish and then pulling hard.. however got the bone with the sternum attached would have their wish come true!