Between 10:00 a.m. and 6:00 p.m. we butchered 17 chickens. It is done. It was anxiety-provoking, scary, interesting, amazing, perspective-changing, educational, prayer-inducing, and exhausting. That's a lot of emotions to move through in one day. We are now hoping that they will taste good, but we are also wondering if we will even be able to eat them. There's a good chance there will always be questions like, "I wonder if this was the one with the bad eye?" Then I'll be faced either with placing my fork back beside my plate, picking up my spoon instead to use with my soup, or continuing to eat my beautiful chicken that was raised with love for this very purpose. Indeed I must remember they must have died for a purpose, and they must fulfill their destiny by nourishing our bodies (that was part of our prayer this morning as we began the process).
This is what I know:
1. When I do eat our chickens, I'm certain I won't be able to waste any of it...not after this.
2. I will probably continue what I have already began... eating less meat, for it's far too precious to eat without it really being special and eaten intentionally. And something can't be special if it happens in haste, can it? (something to ponder)
3. I miss our chickens, and I want to build a coop immediately for housing chickens during the winter
4. I feel sorry for Woodchuck all alone right now
5. Clara may become a vegetarian after today, while Ruthie found the entire experience incredibly interesting.
6. I will be reflecting on this experience for many weeks to come
7. This is the beginning of something for our family
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