I took myself in a distant almost childhood (years of 12) a chicken hand. She was wearing her worms, feeding her hands, she used to me herself, did not run away. And I will come to her, eat and sit next to her to learn more.

Here somehow I sat next to me, and the bird looks at me in the face, blows up next to me, as if he wanted something. How it falls in the eye! Fortunately, right in this second I decided to tilt somewhat... The clove hit me slightly above the right eye, literally half a centimeter (there have been many years, and the red spot is).

I learned to cook chicken very early.