"mom says you're changing"

 - -  The text I got from my sister, Cait, last Sunday, after telling her that I had just spent all day slaughtering chickens.  Well...half a day - I'd been coming down with a sore throat/cough/something for a few days that I'd been ignoring, but it finally caught up with me Sunday afternoon.  The rest of the conversation went like this:

Cait:  "you are sick in the head.  the family is dying laughing. did u choke it or cut its throat, mom wants to know?"

Me:  "slit throat.  we're eating one tonight"

Cait:  "well, maybe your throat is sore from karma"

Miss That Good Ole' Lamb Family Humor. 


Ashley's friends (Digit, Freedom, Andre, and Carly) invited us apprentices out to their homestead to learn and help them slaughter their chickens.  I jumped at the opportunity at first  (as I recently left the idealized world of vegetarianism to embrace a way of living and eating that is more holistic, in my opinion).   In my head I thought - 'this is exactly what I want to be able to do on my own someday, so, what a perfect opportunity!'  But, a few days before the slaughter, the reality of what I had committed to began to sink in.  I doubted my ability to actually kill a living being and a nervousness crept into the pit of my stomach.  I decided to push on through it.

I watched Digit kill the first chicken and learned how to most effectively slit it's throat.  Then, Ashley took me to get my own chicken, which I had to chase around the coop, corner, and then grab without getting pecked.  It was the first time I had ever held a chicken, and once I finally got him, he was surprisingly calm. Next, Ashley helped me hang the bird by his feet in this little noose.  I looked the bird in the eye and took a moment to connect to it and thank it for it's life energy.  Then I slit it's throat - making a cut that started behind the bird's ear and went straight across it's neck.  It was hard to cut through the feathers, and I had to cut a few more times in order to get at the main artery (which isn't ideal, but, it was my first time). I knew when I finally got it because the blood came pouring out and the bird died shortly thereafter.  Though, it continued to flap it's wings and thrash around which scared the shit out of me!  But, like all creatures, chickens continue to have neurological responses immediately following death.

After the bird drained for awhile, I took it down from the noose and chopped it's head off.  Next, I plunged it into 150 degree water, which loosens the muscles and skin for plucking.  Usually one would stand there and pluck out each individual feather... BUT this summer, Digit invented a bicycle powered chicken plucker!!  I peddled while Digit held my chicken and what would have been a time consuming step in the process took all of five minutes!!!  (However, it was a pretty intense workout!)

Next, I finger plucked some of the random feathers we missed and then cut open the bird at the underbelly, reaching into the cavity and gently pulling out all of the organs.  Then I cut off the feet and rinsed out the inside and put it into a cooler.  The whole process took around 45 minutes, but mostly because I was learning.  We did a total of 13 birds - though I only killed one. 

Paul and Lisa gutting the birds

At the end of the day (eating the best fried chicken of my life  - via Ashley - ), I realized how thankful I was to have participated.  The experience truly deepened my awareness of and connection to food and my place in the overall life/death cycle.

The rest of the week was a blur - I only got sicker and slept for most of the day on Monday and Tuesday.  I tried my best to work but barely made it through today - - my head is still pounding and I look forward to sleeping all weekend - - blahhhhhhhhh