The turkeys have been testing my patience lately. First it was sitting on the laundry:
Flying was really what was getting the girls into all kinds of trouble, so on Sunday Mackenzie and I clipped their wings. I have not seen this yet, but my husband says they are really funny when they try to fly. They get up about four feet in the air then bank sharply to the left and end up back on the ground. The males were happy, though, to have the females sticking around them.
In other turkey news: one tom went to the butcher's this morning along with four hens from the old house. One hen at the old house was attacked over the weekend and needed to be put out of its misery, so only four old stewing hens for the freezer. But they finished their job at the old house, doing a nice job cleaning up the vegetable garden there.
The butcher's farm is a quintessential Mennonite farm; two buggies in the garage, well pump powered by a large windmill, and great gardens. And the price can't be beat. Only $2 per chicken and $3 per turkey. At these prices I may never want to butcher my own birds again.
It was fully dark by the time I got the call that the birds were ready to be picked up. It was dark at the farm, guess they don't have outside lights, and the path to the butchering room was between two dark buildings. Two people were standing outside the door waiting for their birds. As I opened the door there was a rush of warm moist air laden with the scent of wet poultry feathers. The whole family was involved in the butchering. The turkey and chickens were put straight into the cooler, no bags, and then he dropped in the hearts and livers. A quick stop on the way home to get bags big enough for a whole bird and then we spent a half hour packaging the birds. Can't wait to try them.