Tuesday, 14 September 2010


3 of the cockerels went yesterday.

I have their leg rings on the worktop, ready to sterilise and put away. It is so sad.  I have to make myself remember that these chickens had a really happy life, much longer than the life of most table chickens.  And that all chickens are chickens and have personalities, irrespective of whether I knew them personally or not.

I was updating our Chick Records, and realised that the blue ring belonged to the only cockerel with a pea comb.  He was the one who was the spitting image of his mum, Rose.  

This part of the cycle just doesn't get easier.  I guess it's better in some ways that it doesn't,  as it keeps me very aware of what I eat,  and determined not to waste anything.
Luckily for me, DH does the gutting.  

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