Killing chicken update

...OK, it wasn't that disgusting. It was a little disgusting and moderately graphic but nothing like ummm.... ummm.... (oh, I've got it!) the placenta after childbirth. Ewwwwww. Now that is disgusting.

What?

Oh, I'm sorry. You were trying to eat a raspberry muffin?

Really, really sorry.

Continuing on ... we talked about chickens and how bologna sandwiches were a treat and about thrashing and planting corn and harvesting oats and it was interesting.

It just amazes me to see the years fall away from my Dad's face as he talks. He is in that moment and that time reliving the feel of the tractor wheel beneath his hand, smelling the crisp autumn air, hearing corn being harvested by hand ping, ping, ping against the bang board as it was thrown into the wagons.

I am on a journey of discovery and I hope I can translate the spell-weaving stories I hear onto paper to share with our family and to preserve a part of my Dad after he's gone.

And now...I'm off.

I was going to eat something but I'll keep thinking about the whole placenta thing and maybe that will help my diet along.

Ewwwww....

Sigh....