january 08,2007
I just finished the chicken wrangle. What that entails is me chasing around the free range roasters until I catch one. I place each bird gently into a crate designed to restrict movement. The chickens are then safely and quietly transported via my luxury pick up truck to a small woody enclave near Beloit Wisconsin just off of the the lovely bubbling Rock River. The birds sleep the whole way dreaming little chicken dreams as they are ever so lightly moved into the small family owned fowl processing facility. I say so long to my friends as I have usually named each of the 100 or so young roasters and have proudly watched them grow from the young innocent day olds that I picked up from the post office, through their gangly two and a half week old period up to the big proud full grown 7 week old strapping healthy roasters they are now. That was so much fun, we had such great times together. Now we wave good by to eachother, bon voyage fellas!
As I drive off, I make a mental note to bring an extra cooler back with me tomorrow. Once done, they should all fit into about 5 chest coolers.
All kidding aside, these birds are really good. They sell out at the markets almost immediately throughout the summer. People show up early to buy them and are really disappointed when I sell out.
I have a guy coming out on Wednesday to shear my ewes (does that sound gay?). He'll be here at 8:30am. He apologized for such a late start but he has breakfast with his friends every single day at 6am. Wow, I'm about to meet another completely normal person out here in the country. I'll get pictures of the shearing extravaganza that I'm sure this is going to be.
