…a funny thing happened on the way to the bar
It’s circle of life time here at the farm. Having nine roosters is a bad idea. But we suck at deciding what to do with them. But it has gotten bad. Like Harvey Weinstein directing a movie about Tailhook bad.
So we have decided to butcher some roosters today. Hopefully seven. Other side, however many we can catch. We want to keep the primary Noah and one of the pretty ones. If we can swing it, the one that has a harem of one. It’s sort of cute, he waddles around all day with one of the girl pixies.
At the same time, we are hatching newbies. One last night, one last night who didn’t make it, one today, and several pips.
We went on an egg run to my parents’ and my brother’s houses. Did a Costco run. Bought burgers and had a picnic at the nature center.
Social distancing, of course.
Then back to do the deed. No pictures this year, but suffice to say, lots of MacBeth references. We ended up butchering three roosters, so that’s one-third of the gauntlet gone.
We still aren’t very good, but we’re getting better. The Husband did the initial kill, we shared the plucking, and I did the eviscerating. And, true to form, there was a big storm on the way.
But as of now we are down one chicken. Killed three, two new babies.