Thursday, May 24, 2012

Pigs vs Chickens vs Me

I hurriedly busted through the garage door which leads into our laundry room and into our home huffing and puffing, but with steadfast focus on the task at hand. 

Get through the door carrying eleven overfilled reusable grocery bags, don't let the dog out, shut the door, step over dirty, stinky laundry piles, don't get tripped up on any bra straps or jock straps, don't drop the keys, don't lose the mail which is crammed in my armpit and fighting for breathing room with my purse. 

I see the finish line. The kitchen is just....right....there. Just make it before both my shoulders separate. That is goal. Eye it. Visualize it. You can do it.  Blast past the in-laws, their friends, Doc H, a couple of the kids, the dog. Ignore those around you and their offers to help. Don't they understand this is a fragile balancing act? One simple shift and it all blows. I have eggs here people! Make way!

I barely make it to the counter, only pausing to get enough backswing on my loot to heave-ho it onto the countertop.

"What have you got there?" Doc H asks as I jut my lower jaw out to blow air up to dislodge the hair that's stuck to the sweat which has beaded up all over my face. My in-laws and their friends are rummaging through the bags now...

"That there is your free-range, grain fed, organic, $15 whole chicken." I huffed.

"WHAT! 15 bucks for a chicken?!"

"It didn't live in a cage. You said you wanted farm-raised." (read here for proof)

"I didn't say that!"

I'm still catching my breath, "Yes, you did! You said you only wanted farm raised pork."

"Exactly! Pork!"

"So you care about the pigs, but not the chickens?" My hands are now free, so I'm wiping my matted down hair away and off my face.

"Well, at 15 bucks a chicken, we should get some chickens and put them in the yard."

"Wait, what? Are you saying you want me to kill the chickens we eat now?" I am in disbelief as I adjust the girls back into place. {Note to self: never were demi-cups on shopping day again}

"Sure, it's easy. All you have to do is pick them up and wring their neck." 

At this point, I quickly glance at my MIL and we make eye contact. I see I have her blessing. "I'm going to be wringing your neck in just a second."

I can only do so much for love.

This will NOT be me.


  1. I swear they are all the same. They want what they want and they want us to get it for them For free. I swear my husband thinks that groceries don't cost a thing. It concerns me sometimes--I wonder what he thinks I DO for the food we eat...

    1. HAHA! But, I do agree with Doc H that is an expensive clucker!

  2. Killing your food is the ultimate connection, can't get closer than that. I loved the farmer in Food Inc. who raised all his own stuff and butchered/sold them on site. He was part of the reason I wanted to read the books. Inspiring, but still several steps away for most of us. The question is how did the chicken taste?

  3. Just tell Doc H that if he'll kill them and clean them, you'll cook them.


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