Antivegetarianskoe. Anti-Soviet. Kryavyavoe.
When I was growing up, the trees were big, the grass - a truly green, the water - really wet, the sky - the blue-blue, and the Jedi Knights have not even invented. So I can not even say that if they were rubber than it is now ;-)))
But now the chickens were rubber, and blue. Now it's hard to believe, but that's the case and the situation was. Lay themselves on the shelves of small-small blue rubber chicken ...
Oh no, do not lie. They too have been a deficit ... I apologize. Blue rubber chickens very quickly swept off the shelves ...
So, in those magical old days, we have found a way to deal with the blue rubber chickens, and with their absence. These Jedi have always come up with the output, right?
In late March or early April, a great-grandmother led me to Losinoostrovsky market. We walked along hrustkomu natoptannomu ice drifts among the spongy (yes, even if the streets are not clean ... okay, clean but not like now). By the way, I do not times distracted by something to float on a stream or spichechku poke imported from the GDR boots with crust of ice on a puddle of ... But in the end we still come to the end.
aim was Losinoostrovskaya truck on the market. Since he sold the chickens.
No, you do not understand. Trading is not chicken, and not what some frozen or chilled carcasses. With the truck sold chickens. Zhovten'ka such, the food ... Do you understand?
So. Great-grandmother bought 20 pieces of chicken. We carried them home in his bosom, because usually a cardboard box to get it was not possible - also the deficit. When they came, it smelled of us very specifically. But more specific beginning to smell prababushkinoy in room two days later.
However, my grandmother, a rare clean, do not start their usual songs, but happy. And she helped great-grandmother change in a small zagonchike (in Stalin's oak parquet! imagine?) hewed chickens newspapers ("Truth," "Soviet Russia" and "News"). Zagonchik the same was built from scraps of cardboard. We
with her great grandmother fed chickens cutted boiled eggs, boiled buckwheat and millet. And green onions, finely chopped (So he is not a deficit).
and then comes the magical month of May. We bring chickens into the yard, so they ate green grass and warmed in the sun. By the foot of each chicken was tied a thread, the other end of which is highly interactive was wound on his forefinger grandmother. I could, absorbed game run anywhere, great-grandmother could talk away from the neighbors or take a nap in the sun ... But chickens can not disappear anywhere! Hardly any of them too pulling the thread, great-grandmother once came to myself: Do not run away?
during the May sittings took place culling chickens. I do not know what the reason, but because of the "party" one or two of chicken began to squat on foot. "No tenant!" - Stated grandmother.
evening I had a chicken soup ;-)))
In July, a fully fledge chicks and began to behave arrogantly. Clucked and crowed in the night, jumped out of the fence, trying to explore the world, consisting of flat-Stalin.
And then my grandmother could not stand.
She took tiptoe very carefully, trying not to hurt my poor psyche, chopping hatchet to her toes, her head. Chicks are deprived of their heads, first flew and ran across the kitchen, then calmed down in my hands. I plucked them, nibbling, nibbling, nibbling ... And salivating flowed ...
And I was fried chicken as a reward. Gentle, gentle.
A grandmother and great-grandmother and then ice-frost ... In a conventional refrigerator Soviet ZIL ... With such a small freezer ... These carcasses ...
But we have at every holiday was a normal chicken, but not blue rubber!
Taste of chickens raised and nurtured me, still remember.
How to catch the truck from which the chickens sold in the market?
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