Times Change

A friend stopped by the garden yesterday afternoon, while I was thinning my carrots. “Did you grow up on a farm?” he asked. “No, not really… but we had a big garden when I was a kid, and my Aunt Sue and Uncle Rick had a dairy farm so I’d go and help them milk the cows and feed the chickens…” This led to his next question: “Have you ever plucked a chicken?” (I was starting to wonder where we were going with this.) “Um, yes, a couple of times…” I said. “It’s not my favorite thing to do…” His face showed his thoughts clearly, that plucking chickens probably isn’t anybody’s favorite thing to do.

Turns out an hour or two later I was helping him kill and pluck chickens. I got paid — with a chicken, which is now in a pot. Seldovia continues to surprise me. Such a variety of opportunities and experiences available!

I could feel the presence of my poor grandmother, who survived my decade-of-vegetarianism (and even custom-cooked dishes for me at family gatherings, using separate spoons and all), up there in heaven rolling her eyes.

This entry was posted in Alaska, Culture, food, Seldovia, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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