Thursday, September 01, 2005

Life, death and sheetrock (not drywall)

Sorry to have not blogged in so long. I have been using my limited time on the Internet – we are dial-up after all – to keep up on the tragedy that is New Orleans. We have kept busy otherwise. Tomorrow we are scheduled to get 100 barred rock chicks. In eight weeks the plan is to process them and sell what we can. We will hold back about a dozen hens when the processing happens so that we will have egg layers for our use.

The chicks’ brooder is the bed of a 1969 Dodge D-200 pick-up truck. We originally purchased this with the idea that Stephen and I would work on the truck and it would be his when he turned 16. Stephen has exactly 2 hours in this project at this time. The scrap value of the truck was used as a trade-off to help fund his mission trip to Jamaica in July. Now Mitchell is intent on fixing the truck in time to drive it, but he has yet to make a move toward a wrench.

Tomorrow is also the day we slaughter four out of five roosters. Sorry, we will process four out of five roosters. Mitchell will slit their throats. Stephen will scald them. Faith, Grace and Claire will pluck them. Melissa and will gut them. I will them give them a cold bath and fold them up for storage/eating. The feet and necks are spoken for already. If you want their hearts, lungs, livers, gizzards, combs or beaks, e-mail Melissa and she will make sure that you get the part. We don’t deliver.

Mitchell and I are all scratchy this evening as we insulated the old garage today. We will be drywalling Saturday and Sunday. I went to get the drywall at the local hardware store and when I asked about drywall they all just stared at me. Then the lady behind the counter says “Oh, you mean sheetrock,” and everything was alright. Later I told the folks at the front desk I needed to see about renting the drywall lift and the two of them looked at each other and asked a third fella if the store rented ‘drywall lifts’. He looked at me and me and his mind sort of wandered and then he snaps to and says to me “You mean sheetrock?” I told him yes and suddenly everything was alright. I guess in the Metroplex we are hardware bi-lingual.

Roger

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