I would like to post more often than I actually do, but such is life.
In stream of consciousness style . . .
- We just started reading By the Shores of Silver Lake this afternoon before naptime. In the second chapter, Jack the beloved bulldog dies - and I could barely read through my tears. Diego simply patted me and asked, "Are you going to be okay, Mama?" His sweetness is my weakness. Oh . . . and my tender heart.
- Speaking of crying . . . we butchered our cockerels two (or was that three?) weekends ago. Ourselves. All of Squeeze's family came for the event and we took care of 15 chickens in 2 hours, start to finish. We put them in killing cones, upside-down, and cut their throats. Watching the lifeblood pour from them was sobering, to say the least. I do believe I was also the only one to cry, out of 8 adults and 12 children. I only watched the first round of four and then I never went back to the killing cones. I didn't want to see it again. We then scalded, plucked, eviscerated, and put them on ice. Dealing with whole chickens is very familiar to me, so that part was cake. The killing? Not so much.
- Questions it brought to my mind: This is how we get our food? What would it be like to watch a more intelligent animal, like a pig, being butchered? How do I ultimately feel about the reality of eating meat? What thoughts (if that is even possible) were going through their minds?
- The butchering experience made me even more committed to locally produced foods.
- We saved all the hearts, livers, gizzards, and feet -- the first three I will grind up and incorporate into meatloaf, for I am not brave enough to do otherwise (yet). The feet, I will put into chicken stock - they make it extra-rich and gelatin-y. Very delicious (mineral-licious, too).
- I am revelling in darkness by 6:00 PM. I have honestly never looked forward to the winter months like I am now. In fact, I used to dread them (post-college, in the drudgery of work-life). Why? Because, finally . . . we can't work outside. We can actually relax and hang out together, enjoying each other's company. The evening meal is at a reasonable time -- 7:00-ish vs. 9:30-ish. It is delightful and I am SO GLAD I have many more months to go. You can quote me on that when I'm complaining about being stuck inside come February.
- We are [finally] watching old seasons of The Office and I'm telling you, I think that show was written for and by people in their 30's. And I get every single sci-fi nerd joke they toss out: Dumbledore Calrissian? Yeah, I know him.