In case anyone was wondering, I am truly a country girl now. I am proud to announce that I've killed and cleaned my first chicken. Well, I didn't actually kill it. My friend Lila held the knife. But I (tightly) clutched her body as the last spurts of life left. And my hands pulled out her guts.
She was a mean, mean hen. Jumping all over Ana's feet and pecking away, she seemed to actually enjoy it. Ana ... not so much. So, we decided she needed to be offed. And shockingly, none of it bothered me.
Even more shockingly, none of it bothered Ana. She watched the whole dang thing. The killing, the plucking, the cleaning. As she watched the beheading, her fingers crept up to her own neck and she said "I have blood in my neck too, mama!" And as we sat down to eat our chicken dinner that night, Ana declared, "this is a really good bad chicken!"
You will pardon my lack of pictures.
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