oh what fun we had

a busier day today - this morning I spent some time filing, paying bills and sorting stuff out as well as making a list of things that I still have to do in my little winter's pause. Then we moved on to chainsawing. It was blowing a hoolie outside (unlikely, of course, that it would blow one inside...) which made us get fed up with chainsawing (sawdust in eyes is tedious) so we moved on to the next, long-anticpated thing: killing some chickens. I haven't been involved in chicken death for a long time and was feeling nervous about it. Luckily, Mr. Spitzi decided to join in the fun and we killed one chicken. We decided to see how much meat one got out of one of our old birds before killing the rest (reason: they haven't laid much since about May and their food is expensive and they are old). Killing it wasn't so bad, the dog found it exciting....plucking it was far easier than I remembered, thanks to some top tips I'd been given over on Facebook. Then came chopping off head, legs etc. Flea was a great help here and we even started to mess around with camera and chicken bits. But then came the guts and, I am afraid to say, I am a total wimp....I knew it would smell, I knew it would be horrible but I was not prepared for the fact that I would turn into a silly girl who doesn't like squishing her hand up a chicken's ass. If it's a choice between starving and doing that again I will, of course, do it again, but not before.....not when I can buy free range chickens all ready prepared to go straight in the oven. Oh no.
Once the chicken was fully cleaned out I turned to my old pal Hendrick and deleted my short-term memory. Alcohol can be a wonderful friend.