I would LOVE to have a chicken but my back yard is brick and also tiny. So I just enviously read about other people’s chickens. As a child, I read Betty MacDonald’s book, The Egg and I; this set me on a path of wanting a chicken. I’m 80 now, so I doubt I will ever have a chicken in my life. But living in New Orleans, I can dream.
I will miss your recipes but glad you are continuing to write your amazing stories. Good luck with your obsession! Hope you will be happy securing your niche! ❤️🌼
It's just truth in advertising. Always felt bad people subscribed thinking they were going to get lots of recipes and then end up getting stories. I promise there will still be occasional recipes
I applaud your new title! I bet I'm one of your few readers who can claim firsthand knowledge of what goes on in a poultry plant. In the summer of '71, I served as the "tie-down man on the cut-up crew" for Lipman Poultry in Augusta, Maine. And it was a union job, too! I worked the 4 p.m. swing shift, so I showed up early (I know, out of character) and went to the lunchroom. Two slightly older guys came in, saw me, and shouted something like, "Hey, there's a hippie faggot! Let's make him cut his hair!" I did have a pony tail, and I was indeed a wimp. But I was unexpectedly armed. When they approached me, I stood up and, for some unknown reason, I waved the barbecued chicken leg I'd been munching on right at their faces. They freaked out and backed off, crying, "How can you eat that?" Apparently, full-time workers had lost their appetite for chicken. But they didn't strike me as vegetarians.
Am not at all surprised at both the story and the telling of it! I'm afraid to ask, but what's a tie-down man? Ever since I learned how smart and emotionally intellegent chickens are, I've been having a hard time eating them--what they must go through!
Hi, I figured I was already way beyond my word count, but you raise a good point.
By the time the chickens reached me, they’d been de-feathered, drained of blood, skinned and cut into pieces, like wings, breasts, legs, etc. Those remains were put on a conveyor belt where somebody positioned right before me picked up the parts and piled them into a plywood crate. I’d add a shovel full of chopped ice and seal that crate shut ("the tie-down"). Then I’d send that loaded crate onto another conveyor belt that would take those chicken remains to the storage locker above us, where they’d await shipment. The highest paid jobs belonged to the butchers, who'd take a "live" but dispirited chicken from the truck, hang the bird upside down on an overhead moving rack, slit its neck with a huge blade, and then move on to the next victim. Although the butchers wore plastic gloves, their hands were clearly stained with dried blood--I learned that lesson in the lunchroom after asking an old-timer why those guys hadn't washed their hands before ordering food.
Geez, almost time for dinner here in Northport, but I don’t think chicken is on tonight’s menu. Sigh! One reason I’m still a carnivore is that I know my karma is screwed so I might as well enjoy what I want to eat! Bon appetit!
And you jhave just decidently put me off chicken! They're so smart and proven to have so much emotional range....Hung up and slit....there goies the American Sunday night roast chicken
Oh Pat! Love the idea of your telling us your Stories! I have enjoyed the ones you have shared thus far! Both fictional and childhood memories. And I am so surprised by your love of chickens! But I am all for it!!!! We have many chicken lovers her on Substack as Joyce Vance's site has revealed! She gives us breaks from our crazy political world with occasional pics and stories of her much loved chickens! I say pooh to your neighbor who would rain on your having a few chickens. Maybe you could bribe her with a few free eggs each week! You deserve to find a little happiness with some chickens to gladden your heart! PS I watched both of the videos and thoroughly enjoyed them!! Let your stories and life with chickens begin!!!! :-)
My goodness! How I love you! I have to look up Joyce. Chicken lovers need each other's support! This is a neighbor who called the cops on my kids multiple times over the years for doing such things as cleaning the windows while listening to rap music--and not even at top volumn! I've broached my neighbor to put the coop in his yard. He's thinking about it but he doesn't have the space I have....not giving up though! (and aren't those videos a hoot?!)
Yes, the videos are Great! Both for people who love chickens and people who know nothing about them. Joyce Vance Is knee deep into helping us understand the day by day tear down of our democracy from a legal point of view. She is a retired Judge from Alabama, who has often appeared on MSNBC programs. She has a book coming out in October, 'Giving Up Is Unforgiveable - A Manual for keeping a democracy' . She also loves her chickens and other assorted pets and often shares them to the delight of her many thousands of fans! Oh and the little king hates her because she sees right through him and his cohorts.
Too bad about your neighbor being so unreasonable. But, if you only have hens that should keep the noise down. And if the NYC code says you can have chickens, tell her to be nice and you will share your eggs. None of us know when we might see egg costs soar sky high again. Do make plans for what you will do with the chicken manure, so your neighbor won't be able to complain about the smell. Maybe your older friend with the garden would like to have it, or knows other gardeners who would be glad to have it. I say get a few, and see how it goes. :-)
Very amusing. I did not notice the name change until you mentioned it. It will be freeing to not feel obligated to include a recipe. Your stories are delightful all on their own.
I would LOVE to have a chicken but my back yard is brick and also tiny. So I just enviously read about other people’s chickens. As a child, I read Betty MacDonald’s book, The Egg and I; this set me on a path of wanting a chicken. I’m 80 now, so I doubt I will ever have a chicken in my life. But living in New Orleans, I can dream.
I'm with you! I got vicarious thrills reading about MacDonald's farm adventure
I will miss your recipes but glad you are continuing to write your amazing stories. Good luck with your obsession! Hope you will be happy securing your niche! ❤️🌼
It's just truth in advertising. Always felt bad people subscribed thinking they were going to get lots of recipes and then end up getting stories. I promise there will still be occasional recipes
I applaud your new title! I bet I'm one of your few readers who can claim firsthand knowledge of what goes on in a poultry plant. In the summer of '71, I served as the "tie-down man on the cut-up crew" for Lipman Poultry in Augusta, Maine. And it was a union job, too! I worked the 4 p.m. swing shift, so I showed up early (I know, out of character) and went to the lunchroom. Two slightly older guys came in, saw me, and shouted something like, "Hey, there's a hippie faggot! Let's make him cut his hair!" I did have a pony tail, and I was indeed a wimp. But I was unexpectedly armed. When they approached me, I stood up and, for some unknown reason, I waved the barbecued chicken leg I'd been munching on right at their faces. They freaked out and backed off, crying, "How can you eat that?" Apparently, full-time workers had lost their appetite for chicken. But they didn't strike me as vegetarians.
Am not at all surprised at both the story and the telling of it! I'm afraid to ask, but what's a tie-down man? Ever since I learned how smart and emotionally intellegent chickens are, I've been having a hard time eating them--what they must go through!
Hi, I figured I was already way beyond my word count, but you raise a good point.
By the time the chickens reached me, they’d been de-feathered, drained of blood, skinned and cut into pieces, like wings, breasts, legs, etc. Those remains were put on a conveyor belt where somebody positioned right before me picked up the parts and piled them into a plywood crate. I’d add a shovel full of chopped ice and seal that crate shut ("the tie-down"). Then I’d send that loaded crate onto another conveyor belt that would take those chicken remains to the storage locker above us, where they’d await shipment. The highest paid jobs belonged to the butchers, who'd take a "live" but dispirited chicken from the truck, hang the bird upside down on an overhead moving rack, slit its neck with a huge blade, and then move on to the next victim. Although the butchers wore plastic gloves, their hands were clearly stained with dried blood--I learned that lesson in the lunchroom after asking an old-timer why those guys hadn't washed their hands before ordering food.
Geez, almost time for dinner here in Northport, but I don’t think chicken is on tonight’s menu. Sigh! One reason I’m still a carnivore is that I know my karma is screwed so I might as well enjoy what I want to eat! Bon appetit!
Onward!
Cheers
And you jhave just decidently put me off chicken! They're so smart and proven to have so much emotional range....Hung up and slit....there goies the American Sunday night roast chicken
Oh Pat! Love the idea of your telling us your Stories! I have enjoyed the ones you have shared thus far! Both fictional and childhood memories. And I am so surprised by your love of chickens! But I am all for it!!!! We have many chicken lovers her on Substack as Joyce Vance's site has revealed! She gives us breaks from our crazy political world with occasional pics and stories of her much loved chickens! I say pooh to your neighbor who would rain on your having a few chickens. Maybe you could bribe her with a few free eggs each week! You deserve to find a little happiness with some chickens to gladden your heart! PS I watched both of the videos and thoroughly enjoyed them!! Let your stories and life with chickens begin!!!! :-)
My goodness! How I love you! I have to look up Joyce. Chicken lovers need each other's support! This is a neighbor who called the cops on my kids multiple times over the years for doing such things as cleaning the windows while listening to rap music--and not even at top volumn! I've broached my neighbor to put the coop in his yard. He's thinking about it but he doesn't have the space I have....not giving up though! (and aren't those videos a hoot?!)
Yes, the videos are Great! Both for people who love chickens and people who know nothing about them. Joyce Vance Is knee deep into helping us understand the day by day tear down of our democracy from a legal point of view. She is a retired Judge from Alabama, who has often appeared on MSNBC programs. She has a book coming out in October, 'Giving Up Is Unforgiveable - A Manual for keeping a democracy' . She also loves her chickens and other assorted pets and often shares them to the delight of her many thousands of fans! Oh and the little king hates her because she sees right through him and his cohorts.
Too bad about your neighbor being so unreasonable. But, if you only have hens that should keep the noise down. And if the NYC code says you can have chickens, tell her to be nice and you will share your eggs. None of us know when we might see egg costs soar sky high again. Do make plans for what you will do with the chicken manure, so your neighbor won't be able to complain about the smell. Maybe your older friend with the garden would like to have it, or knows other gardeners who would be glad to have it. I say get a few, and see how it goes. :-)
I think I could be become quite popular sharing my chicken manure! This all has given me courage to revisit tmy chicken fantasy! Thank you!
Very amusing. I did not notice the name change until you mentioned it. It will be freeing to not feel obligated to include a recipe. Your stories are delightful all on their own.
Well, no one will miss my recipes--they weren't very original, good anyway!
Oh stop! You are too modest.
Seriously! It's one of the things that made me think I should change the newsletter's name. Can't come up with a recipe to save my life!