Both of my grandmothers kept hens. It was their contribution to the war effort. At this distance from 1939 I suppose that I have to elaborate and say I am talking about the Second World War. My paternal grandmother kept her chickens for eggs. She continued her chicken venture until the mid 1960's. We usually visited her on Sunday afternoons and I remember being drafted in to help her collect the eggs and make up a mash for the laying hens.
My maternal grandmother's efforts were directed towards the breeding and hatching of chicks. She was a member of various chicken breeders' associations and was proud to display their logos on her notepaper. I think it was in the mid 1950's that she ceased her mini business. The outhouse which she used for her venture continued to be called the Incubator House even after her death in 1968.
Maybe it has been the indirect influence of my grandmothers but the notion of having a few chickens has been occupying my mind for the past couple of years. I have now convinced myself that it is a good idea. Whether it will be remains to be seen and experienced. I know that it may just be a hankering for the uncomplicated life of childhood when worry was transient and the future welcomed. It would be nice to think that one could experience the hopes of childhood again even if transiently.