I don't know about you, but most of our weekends start off pretty mundane. Get up, drink some caffeine, do a few chores. You know, the stuff of everyday life. And then, there was this past weekend. Our Saturday was quiet enough. The guys did some outside work and I puttered around in the kitchen.....making these pillows of yumminess.
Yes, the cold, rainy drizzly day just seemed to call out for something to brighten all our spirits. And what better way than with homemade sticky buns? Needless to say, they really hit the mark with my guys. Nothing like baking something delicious to put a smile on my men's faces.
Well, that was Saturday. Sunday came alive as the first sunny day we've seen in 2 weeks and when it warmed up in the afternoon Joel made the decision that it was finally time to break up the "Gang of 8". Yeah, you know, the 8 cocky roosters that have been terrorizing the hens for weeks now. But first we had some prep work to do.
It was my job to scrub the food grade bucket where the cleaned birds would cool down in an ice bath. And the knives and other tools needed for the job had to be washed, too. While I was doing that, the guys set up a table as a station to do the work side of skinning and gutting the birds.
Gloves. Check. Paper towels. Check. Butchering book. Check. (you know we're going to need to review this again!) Cutting board and knives. Check.
Ok, now, let's get this show on the road! We three headed down to the chicken coop and pasture to see which of the "Gang" would be going to Freezer Camp today.
Awwww, isn't he magnificent? The roosters really are quite majestic, they're just too danged....um, how shall I say this?......too danged amorous!
I can just hear him saying,"Hey, baby. You want me to follow you to your boudoir?" Poor hens. This goes on all day long.......in the coop, out in the pasture.....wherever a hen can be cornered. Yikes. We think it's time to even out the odds. According to Joel's chicken book, 1 rooster is plenty for 10 hens. Well, we have 9 roosters for 12 hens. That's not good.....
Joel was sizing up the roosters to pick which ones he wanted to slaughter today. Some of these guys are pretty big....and Joel is the "choosen one" who has to catch them. Um, yeah, better him than me. I collect eggs, I DON'T pick up the chickens. It's a pact Joel and I made before we even bought the birds last Spring. He knows flopping wings freak me out......I like the birds just fine, from a distance.
See? Here's Henny Penny. She flies over the electrified net every morning to escape the romantic advances of the roosters. She is 1 of only 2 Rhode Island Red chickens we have, and the only one with a name out of all our chickens. The rest are called Eggs and Meat. Joel really loves the calm nature of the Reds and they have taken to eating out of his hand. It's pretty cool to watch them eating out of his hand as they lovingly coo and cluck the whole time.
This is as good a shot as I could get of the "Gang of 8".....I just couldn't get all 8 of them in one pic. Boy, do they ever rule the roost? Just look at them strutting around the yard.
So we turned off the electricity to the fence and Joel went into their pasture with his curved shephard's crook thingey.....yes, that's the official name in the catalog. Don't laugh. Really. Well, he proceeded to calmly walk up to the roosters and then swiftly and deftly swiped at the legs of one of the Gang. Oh, man! That rooster untangled his legs so fast and flew away in a flash. Hmmmm, that didn't work very well.
Jeremy was trying ever really hard to be supportive of his dad.....but we all three had the giggles as Joel wrestled with one after another of the roosters. And not one of them got caught. Huh. Imagine that.
Well, after all the commotion in the pasture, several of the birds went into the coop to escape Joel. Jeremy stood guard at their little chicken door while Joel went into action for Plan "B". Once inside the coop, Joel closed the chicken door essentially trapping the birds inside. Then he tried to catch a rooster......by himself......with and without the shephard's crook......nadda. No dice. Not gonna happen in a million years.
Fifteen minutes later Plan "C" was put into action. Bet you can guess what that was.....can't ya? Yup, old Eagle Eye Jeremy and his trusty 22 went in for battle. And he did great with 3 direct shots to the heads of 3 of the roosters.....humanely dispatching them as we gave thanks to the birds for their sacrifice.
Yes, Jeremy did a great job and it sure was a lot faster than chasing birds all around the pasture or the coop. And a lot less stressful for Joel.
Proud daddy. Yup, that's my son that helped me out. Now on to the gross, um, on to the part where the birds become food for our table. Two hours later, we were finally done. It took the two of us, me acting as assistant and Joel doing the majority of the job to get to the point where the birds looked like something you would buy in the grocery store.
A little rinsing of the bird, and chilling it down to around 36 degrees in an ice bath was all that was left to do before putting the birds in bags in the refrigerator to rest a few days before we butcher them into pieces for freezing.
I must say, going through the whole ordeal yesterday has given me a brand new appreciation for what our ancestors did every single day to provide food for their family. It takes a lot more time and energy than you realize to put food on the table, especially when you are the one responsible for providing that food. I think I'm better at growing food in the ground than I am gutting and skinning animals. But I'll help Joel with his part just like he helped me with the gardening last summer.
Loving every new experience,
Debbie
