Friday, August 20, 2010

update on the dead meat

As for all you blogger-naggers out there, don't complain, I've been a little busy, sheesh...

Onto the post:

My loving father called me the other day wanting to know if I wanted any of the chicken that was, um, harvested. Heck yeah! I told him right away.

He said I could even have it for free. Okay, I said a little more haltingly, thinking there must be a catch.

He said I could have as much as I wanted--I just had to come down and get it. Hmm. My suspicions were increasing with every statement.

Here it was: I only had to come down and help break their necks, pull off all their feathers, and then clean their guts out. That's it. The grand stipulation.

Oh. I thought they had already done that? Well, it turns out that there were a few chickens left--as in thirty--that they hadn't quite gotten to yet. I thought about this. Could I really do this? I mean, my great-grandmothers did this practically on a daily basis for their dinner. I wasn't really a pure-bred 21st century girl was I? Maybe if I wore long latex gloves and a face mask and closed my eyes it wouldn't be so bad. Besides, it would just be a few hours of pure torture for ten organic, hormone free, preservative free, fresh chicken. For Free.

I would do it. I wouldn't kill them, but I could clean them out. (Remember, Cheapskates go above and beyond.)

Dad called me back a few hours later. I wouldn't need to come down after all. The chickens were already headed to a local butcher where he would do all the dirty work and present a store-worthy packaged chicken for the fee of $3 a chicken.

Well, great!! That's a bargain, if you ask me!!!


Bingham Family said...

Hooray for the butcher! Again, I say YUK! good story!

Jil said...

I can't believe you were willing to try it! I know I am a big wussy in that department, I don't care how much of a cheapskate I am. I almost cried the first time I had to crack open a crab leg to get the meat out, and then I was too sick about it to even enjoy the crab. I'm very grateful for the ignorant bliss of where my food comes from. I'd probably turn into a vegetarian if I knew the truth. I think you're amazing for even considering it!

jerisesh said...

I think you should have asked your dad to leave just one. Every child needs to see how the meat gets to the table and I am sure your kids would have loved the experience.

I remember my great grandma plucking chickens. of course I was 18 and she got an egg out of one. That is when she asked me if she knew where eggs came from and then laughed.

I guess you can give them some more years to mature before you send them to grandpa to pluck chickens! LOL

Lee and Melody said...

I admire your courage. And I admire your chicken prices. And I LOVE your blog! :)