Greetings People!馃檶
One thing I would never be tired of saying is how privileged I am to have been brought up in a rural area. Although life was tough, especially with farm work, but the experiences were so funfilled and real.
- Imagine passing through the community's cemetery at night, and ghosts would greet and wave at you.
- Imagine catching a Guinea fowl with her eggs on the farm and feasting on them; that species of fowl is so sweet with its stubborn nature
I wonder what these people brought up in the city would call "fun"
Under normal circumstances, catching, slaughtering, and feasting on a chicken that's not yours is considered theft, but in my village in those days, it was normal because these fowls were everywhere. It was a case of eating as many as you can catch, but don't let the owner catch you. There was no court law regulating the act; the only problem you'd get when caught by the owner is to get drummed at and receive swears and curses...and these curses do not have any effect on a local man.
Those days, if enough meat didn't reach us from Mama's food at home, we don't get bothered because we knew that these native chickens would be trapped soonest. In fact, there were days we didn't fancy eating meat at home because of the chickens outside. The essence of battling with siblings for the small portion of meat in Mama's food was not there; after all, the native chicken tastes better than fish.
Another sweet thing were the eggs of these hens. For real, the sweetness of native eggs cannot be measured by the English fowl. Naaah! Eggs from English-bred chickens taste like boiled flour, while those from native fowls taste like ostrich eggs. If you've tasted it, you'd know.
If you know native hens very well, you'll know that they lay their eggs everywhere, especially in bushes. Once we see hen that laid eggs and probably nursing them to hatch, we will feast on the her and her eggs, and nothing will happen. Yes, nothing will happen. That's never a ticket to hell because God understands.
There was a day we saw an hen nursing her eggs. We tried to catch her, but she stubbornly ran away, so we packed the eggs, we cooked them only to find out they already had embryos inside. Jeeeeez! I couldn't eat it because it's irritating, but my friend removed the embryos and ate them.
In case you don't know, that's what Filipinos refer to as Balut, and they enjoy eating that. 
Yeah, I did all that during my early life in the village, but as I grew older, I lost appetite for eating such. I can't even eat native hen's eggs again because they now irritates me. I don't know what really happened to my body system; maybe God arrested my whole system for repentance.
What actually brought this topic up was an encounter yesterday.
I was at my peace, doing my thing, when I saw a chicken sneaking inside my store. I went and pursued it, and it ran away.
I left my chair and went inside the bathroom to have my convenience, only to return and see this chicken inside. I pursued it, and it ran off again. That was the moment I knew that it was a hen and was about to lay eggs, and she feels my space is her perfect hospital.
Within minutes, she came again, trying to sneak in.
What came out of my mouth was, "This fowl, you should be thankful that I'm a repentaed soul". Yeah, she should be thankful because I would have allowed her in to lay her fresh eggs, and I would use both her eggs and her meat to treat myself to a hot pepper soup to Match up with the raining Monday.
Thanks for reading