My daughter Abigail snapped this picture this morning from under the comfort of our porch. It's far away and grainy, and I look far from my best, but it tells a story.
Our long-time wwoofer, Jacob, and I had moved our meat chickens and found three chickens that for unknown reasons were close to death. This is not completely uncommon -- especially as we near in on processing day. Often, we just put the birds down and drop them in the woods for the other animals to eat. We really strive to not have anything go to waste.
But this morning, Jacob had another idea. We could skin these chickens and cook them up for dog food. And in the process, I could learn how to skin birds.
I really did not feel like participating in this activity on this particular morning. But I am constantly learning and needing good teachers. Skinning is something I have never done so I told Jacob if he wanted to do it, I was game.
So after spending an hour on animal chores, we came back to the driveway and put these chickens down and then skinned and gutted them.
This picture was taken right after I skinned my chicken. I watched one and then did one.
Skinning was surprisingly easy. Way easier than I thought it might be. It took about ten minutes per bird from start to finish. Put the chicken down, skin the chicken, cut off head and feet and wings, and voila! you have free dog food.
These moments of new things are plentiful for me on the farm. And I can't help but have out-of-body experiences where I look down on myself from above and think: Is this really me? Am I really doing this? How did I get here?
The short answer:
I fell in love with a teenage boy who played mental chess with me for two decades and somehow subliminally convinced me that this is the place I wanted to live and raise my children.
And I am so glad he did.
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