Be Vewwwwwy Qwiet….

In case you weren’t sure of my bona fide status as a strange person, this should do the trick.

I think it’s interesting that it’s only one or two generations since more people had to directly process their own food.  Our parents and grandparents were more likely to be familiar with the intricacies of raising animals for food, not simply companionship.  Yet this has been almost completely lost among my generation and younger.  I don’t know anyone my age who has actually had to kill an animal for their own food – with the exception of fishing or hunting.

I’m not sure if I’d like to do this instead of raising hens, or concurrently with it. 

Decisions, decisions.  We’ll see what happens when we actually have a place where we could conceivably do either of these things!

4 Responses to “Be Vewwwwwy Qwiet….”

  1. Dianne Pedersen Says:

    As a kid, I remember watching my dad cut the head off the chicken for Sunday night supper. I remember watching the headless chicken jump around the yard. YUK! No wonder I don’t eat chicken, or anything else with eyes, except potatoes anymore!

  2. Paul Nelson Says:

    I’m sure that would leave a lasting impression!  My impression is that you became a vegetarian later in life, though.  Do you attribute your vegetarianism in whole or in part to those sorts of memories?  I know personally, as profound as watching a headless chicken run around would be, I’d also be glad to think about having dinner soon!  I’m wondering if I’m mistaken though, or if the squeamishness of having to literally kill your dinner would alter my eating habits?At a certain level, altering eating habits probably is a good thing.  While I don’t think I could ever be a vegetarian, I imagine there’s something to be said for knowing that you have a certain amount of potential meat available, and that you need to space it out and use it wisely or else you’ve depleted your source.  I don’t intend to ever get *all* of our meat from what we raise ourselves, but it would be interesting all the same.How old were you when you first remember watching this Sunday afternoon ritual?

  3. Dianne Pedersen Says:

    To be honest, I’d have to say that the memories of the “headless chickens” had nothing to do with my becoming a vegeterian. I don’t remember not watching this ritual so it was a part of my life growing up as a kid on a farm in North Dakota where we also had a white calf, which we named “Snowflake.” Snowflake was put in a special area and we fed her grain apart from the other calves, played with her and then ate her whenever she was slaughtered. We also had pigs and enjoyed playing with the piglets. Never gave a thought to them when we were eating bacon. My mother also had a huge vegetable garden. I prefer to remember that! My folks were very practical. My mother made most of our clothes and what she didn’t make were hand-me-downs. None of us cared where our clothes or food came from. We were just thankful that we had food, clothing and shelter. But looking back, I’m not sure we, as kids, even thought about where the food, clothing and shelter came from. We just knew it would be there. What a simple, beautiful childhood I had.

  4. Paul Nelson Says:

    Definitely a beautiful childhood!  Thanks for sharing more, Dianne. 

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