**This post may contain sensitive material for those weak at heart, and don’t understand raising your own food sources how chicken becomes chicken on your table**
So, it was a nice cool Saturday morning yesterday, and we decided (after consulting our calendar) that it was the day. THE DAY to butcher our Cornish Cross Chickens. We started with 16 birds, and decided to keep two. One possible rooster, and one possible hen; in the hopes that they would breed in the Spring and give us another “free” round of meat birds. Rather than buying them at the local farm store it would reduce our spending a little.
We got started after lunch as we had a few other chores that needed tending to. Rooster mowed while I got buckets of green beans, basil, mint, jalapenos and poblanos. buckets. You read it right. Rooster also changed the oil in my vehicle as it was time for such maintenance while he did that I straightened up some messes I created from the week before. I’ve been hanging trim throughout the house so you can imagine the chaos surrounding that.
We got out a plank for the first step in the process. The plank was placed on a slight incline on the property so any mess would roll off of the plank and be easily washed away when we were done. We got out the property utensils for the job super sharp cutlery, cutting boards, bowls to put the meat into, and got started.
Together we took the task at hand with ease, and there were only a few hiccups along the way… One mishap was that I forgot the routine about half way through, and forgot to hold the chicken properly and paid for it. So here comes the humor….
So there we were…. like all great stories begin… Rooster had a headless chicken held by the feet and we’re both covered in blood from the mishap a chicken or two ago. We looked like ax murders straight out of a Halloween film, but the rural version. We had just turned to head up the hill to the butcher station when the AMAZON delivery man appeared between the house and garage. “Hey, who’s car is that out front?” Rooster and I exchanged glances that said “Seriously? Does he not notice we are covered in blood, and holding a dead chicken right now?”
The Amazon man went on to rant and rave about my prized possession in the driveway. He kept assuming the car belonged to Rooster because as I am reminded frequently it’s a dude car. Anyways I digress, after correcting Mr. Amazon that it was mine the usual look of shock came across his face, and you could tell he thought that I was joking. Continuing with the usual tale that THAT was HIS dream car growing up, and not even once glancing at his surroundings (us, the ax murderers). In closing he said he never knew the car was here, and went on to tell Rooster it was a good looking car. Sigh. IT’S MY CAR!!!
Once Mr. Amazon left we had a good chuckle at the sight of us, and recreated the conversation differently (how we were expecting the conversation to really go).
AMAZON: Hey, what the hell are you doing out here? You’re covered in blood! OMG! (all the time running back down the driveway to his getaway vehicle.
We had a good chuckle about either possibility of conversations, and carried on with our business.
When we were done we took the meat cuts inside and washed them, got them into vacuum bags, sealed them and got them in the freezer like a well oiled machine. Shower time was the best yesterday. Getting the grime of the day washed away, and relieving stiff muscles and aching backs.
So, remember when life hands you excitement of a beautiful sight; take hold of that moment, and don’t notice the ax murdering scene before you. Embrace others living a simple life.
Enjoy the Labor Day weekend everyone, and thank you to all of you who have been following our stories. Feel free to share with friends and family as we would love to share our stories with everyone!