Graphic

That blog title ought to get some interesting hits, eh?

I got a call this morning, from my Mom.
She says, “Adeena’s had a tragedy.”

She is raising meat birds, and two nights ago one got killed by an unknown animal, and last night the animal came back and killed ten of her ready to butcher birds, and ten of the few week old ones.

That’s twenty birds.

She called the butcher to try to get the rest of the ready to kill ones in, but they couldn’t do it till Sunday

.

And she figured, and I think rightly so,

that now that that animal knew where they were, it’d be back.

And the most annoying part of all this?

Unknown animal just ate their heads.

And chewed them up a bit.

But that’s it.

It wouldn’t be so bad if a wild animal killed and ate a chicken because it was hungry….

but this is just a random act of violence.

Seems tragic.

And wasteful.

Anyway,

the point of all this, is Mom has lots of experience killing chickens,

and she called me to see if I wanted to come help.

Interesting fact about me:

Ever since I got pregnant the first time, I can’t touch raw meat.

I’m serious.

If I cook a chicken,

I cut the packaging and dump the carcass into the pan.

I do NOT make my own hamburger patties.

If I can’t dump something right into the receptacle of cooking, then I use tongs.

Seriously.

It’s ridiculous.

So, she asked me, and I’m like, 

“Uuuuuhhhhhh…..”

The problem is, this particular sister ALWAYS helps.

Anyone.  Anytime.

And her husband.

They are like the ones you can always count on.

So I couldn’t say no.

I did say, however, that I wouldn’t gut.

It turns out I didn’t actually do to much.

Their kids were at Vacation Bible School, so I went and picked them up.

Then the kids were hungry, so I made lunch….

I did portion a few chickens

into thighs, breasts and wings.

And therefore touched raw meat.

And I did help with clean-up.

And you know what?

I think I’m finally over my aversion to raw meat.

The effects of pregnancy may finally be wearing off.

I am going to attempt butchering forty of my own meat birds,

but forty I am for sure sending to the butcher.

So I can sell them, if I so choose.

Anyway,

now comes the graphic part.

’Cause I took pictures.

Avert your eyes if squeamish.

Ready?

Here’s the scene of the crime.

Mom cut up the killed ones,

for the dog and cat to enjoy.

Just the legs and breasts.

We boiled them up.

Here’s a bite mark.

Any guesses as to species?

My guess is coon.

The Mom.
Trying to salvage some of these big, beautiful birds.
The dog and cats will be happy….

Interested onlookers.

Another bite mark.

A hopeful Flo

The boys were incredibly interested in the whole process.
They could probably butcher a chicken, if they had too.
They were watching pretty close.

Mmmmmmm.
Chicken!!
These are the fresh ones.

“Excuse me, but I seem to have misplaced my body.”

“ I have as well.  Silly me.”

Nathan the Body Inspector

Girls plucking…

Cool chicks

Pretty cool field trip.

It’s educational, right?




It amazed me how not squeamish my kids were.

Anyway,
that was my day today.









See ya tomorrow.