As this past new years eve drew nearer the thought of resolutions struck me as clique yet appropriate. One of my resolutions was to find a hobby I enjoy. Running was once my hobby that I could not get enough of but as time went on it just didn't give me that same enjoyment it once did. Having fallen into this rather boring zone of having no particular favorite past-time a new resolution was added to the list.
This summer, with a bit more time on my hands, I am determined to try almost anything to find out what I enjoy but have never tried. I have plans to sign up for a pottery class in hopes of making some oversized mugs to try and fulfill my roommates and my oversized love for large quantities of tea. I am still in the works of trying to convince my parents to let me turn part of our back yard into a vegetable garden but in the mean time I have taken up baking.
Baking cookies and the like is enjoyable but what has really sparked my interest is bread. Yup, just good ol bread. Everybody eats it, and its something that is easy enough to make at home.
One of the things I like most about baking bread is having an excuse to call up my Omas (my grandmas), both of them whom have baked an uncountable number of loaves of bread, have lots of words of wisdom when I call with questions. Calling and talking about baking bridges the fifty-something year age gap between us. When I call it feels more like Im calling up a friend for some helpful advise then I am calling up my Grandma to do simply what a good granddaughter should do.
today: bread, brunch, movie
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Sunday, May 8, 2011
A few different paragraphs for a few different thoughts
Today I feel great. I woke up and at last was met by a shining sun after a long stretch of cloudy, overcast mornings. On a day like this you want to roll out of bed to meet the sun, to find where the world has left space between the shadows to allow the sun’s delicate rays to beam upon and slowly warm and bring to life.
I love spring it gives a chance for new growth, and for life to spring up from its roots. I agree all of this sounds undeniably cliché but Spring is my favourite time of year and after my year in Germany, a year spent mainly with farmers, you learn to look as Spring in a different light. Spring is a gamble, where do you plant what and how much of it? Will the Spring nurture and coddle your plants or will the rain drown your seeds or even wash them away. Spring keeps you on the edge of your seat to see what summer will bring.
My dream garden which would take up the majority of my parent’s backyard and also the majority of my spare time, would be full or vegetables, fruits and herbs but within current standings I am more than willing to settle for a few potted tomato plants and some windowsill basil. Hopefully they grow well. And coupled with my new skill in-the-works of bread baking, I will be able to trade with our neighbors other veggies and home-grown goodness. If you have ever seen the show “The edible garden” you will understand what has inspired a large majority of my passion for home grown love! (Although I had no luck with getting chickens this summer, this will not be my last attempts at homegrown eggs!)
After a delicious breakfast of summer berries and yogurt I went to yoga. This week my mind has been running about a million miles a minute for no reason in particular. I found I couldn’t really focus at yoga and although it did feel great to stretch and move, I feel like the hour I spent just wasn’t enough time to let my mind drain of its running thoughts. I came home and ditched the idea of running errands and instead decided to spend the day in the kitchen baking bread and on the back-porch reading. It was a splendid day but alas I feel as though my mind is still on a treadmill of thought. Coming home from Uni was much different than expected. I’m not sure what it is with my need to know what’s coming next. I am a planner, I outline, I prepare, I try and know what’s to come.. to have some kind of expectation, but after 20 years of life I am beginning to learn that you shouldn’t keep expectations. Everything is constantly changing and expectations should never be concrete. Situations are constantly being reshaped and revamped by changes going on in life so why should something so fluid be subject to concrete expectations? I suppose I answered my own question, with this.
I want strawberry season so I can hit up Springridge Farms and pick a dangerous amount of strawberries and make buckets of jam for the winter months. Mmmm! Nothing like homemade jam on a slice of homemade bread.
Today: yoga, laundry, read, steak and beer with dad!
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Seeing the Glass Half Full
Last year when ever I was getting down on life and was second guessing my decision to go to Europe instead of University I would tell myself that I was learning so much and that it was totally worth it, however rarely did I feel like I was learning much at all (a part from German). I told myself that once I was home I would see how much I had really learned and when I did eventually arrive home I tried to convince myself that I did indeed feel like I had learned all these life lesson. I reality I still felt like a very lost, confused little girl, who had so much to learn.
I am pleased to say that lately I am reaping the rewards of last years struggle as a lot of the things I learned last year are coming into light only now. I feel very much grown up and that I am much more self reliant on directing my life in the direction I want it to lead. One huge thing that has taken me quite a long time to learn (and I am still working on) is how to look on the bright side of things. I feel like on the whole people tend to think I am a positive person because I am bubbly and outgoing but in reality my extroverted nature has little to do with how I view situations as they play out. I myself was even somewhat surprised when I stumbled upon the negativity brewing in my chest that I hadn't even notice was there.
I noticed this little nugget whenever I told people about my trip of Europe (once I was back in Canada). I felt like as I was trying to convince the other person of the great year I had as much as I was trying to convince myself. I know it sounds odd, who doesn't love a good European adventure, but all I could see when I looked back on my trip was all the things I should/could/would have done differently. I didn't come back with crazy stories about people I had met who had taught me the meaning of life or taught me who I am deep down inside. All I could think of, when I retold stories from my year, was how I often felt like I had no clue what I was doing but more over that I thought I was doing it wrong. The movies and other peoples Europe stories made it seem like you would always find your way and that fun things would just fall in your lap but I often second guessed what I chose to do and I found much of the process of traveling rather stressful. However I knew I had been blessed with a great opportunity to see the world and I wanted to be able to look back and have fond memories and this got me thinking about the heart of the issue. Why was it that I was so negative? Many reasons have crossed through my mind and no single one fully answers the question. I have figure out though, that despite everything that I should/could/would have done, I still got to see the world and I still made so great memories and it the act of focusing on those and not the bad memories that I can slowly reshape my mindset of traveling in Europe. This is one skill that I have transferred, in a big way to my life right now. Its about focusing on what is going right when everything else is going down the drain. We all succumb to being negative every once and a while but on the whole I am trying to encourage myself into being a more positive person.
After being rather depressed after a year of introverted-ness and recluse one has to work particularly hard to get out of such a negative mindset. In my pursuit of happiness I liked starting off with the small stuff when trying to get myself back to normal. Little things that I had let become mondane I started to point out and I tried to appreciate them for something pretty great, even if they were small things like the weather or the perfect amount of milk and sugar in your coffee. On top of that I tried to let the little things that get me down to not bother me. If I missed my bus, I would try and take it for what it is, a missed bus, nothing more and nothing less and eventually you let the little things that would have got you down slide off your shoulder (I found letting the little negative things go harder but it had the bigger impact of my happiness factor).
Note: If anyone who happens to read this wants a kick start in the right direction the book "1000 awesome things" is a good place to start.
Now, I know for a fact I can not take all the credit for my current start of happiness and bliss. I have a wonderful family and being back in the same country as my sisters has brought us much closer and I have enjoyed hanging out with them very much this year! Also going to Uni and meeting the great people I have has had a HUGE impact on my level of "loving-life-ness". Being around other optimistic people is a wonderful push in the right direction and being able to share laughs and good memories with others is further encouragement in seeing the bright side of things.
It is still tricky trying to see the positive side all the time (especially with exams around the corner) but its a work-in-progress and I am still learning.
today: sleep in, breakfast with ry, writing it all down
I am pleased to say that lately I am reaping the rewards of last years struggle as a lot of the things I learned last year are coming into light only now. I feel very much grown up and that I am much more self reliant on directing my life in the direction I want it to lead. One huge thing that has taken me quite a long time to learn (and I am still working on) is how to look on the bright side of things. I feel like on the whole people tend to think I am a positive person because I am bubbly and outgoing but in reality my extroverted nature has little to do with how I view situations as they play out. I myself was even somewhat surprised when I stumbled upon the negativity brewing in my chest that I hadn't even notice was there.
I noticed this little nugget whenever I told people about my trip of Europe (once I was back in Canada). I felt like as I was trying to convince the other person of the great year I had as much as I was trying to convince myself. I know it sounds odd, who doesn't love a good European adventure, but all I could see when I looked back on my trip was all the things I should/could/would have done differently. I didn't come back with crazy stories about people I had met who had taught me the meaning of life or taught me who I am deep down inside. All I could think of, when I retold stories from my year, was how I often felt like I had no clue what I was doing but more over that I thought I was doing it wrong. The movies and other peoples Europe stories made it seem like you would always find your way and that fun things would just fall in your lap but I often second guessed what I chose to do and I found much of the process of traveling rather stressful. However I knew I had been blessed with a great opportunity to see the world and I wanted to be able to look back and have fond memories and this got me thinking about the heart of the issue. Why was it that I was so negative? Many reasons have crossed through my mind and no single one fully answers the question. I have figure out though, that despite everything that I should/could/would have done, I still got to see the world and I still made so great memories and it the act of focusing on those and not the bad memories that I can slowly reshape my mindset of traveling in Europe. This is one skill that I have transferred, in a big way to my life right now. Its about focusing on what is going right when everything else is going down the drain. We all succumb to being negative every once and a while but on the whole I am trying to encourage myself into being a more positive person.
After being rather depressed after a year of introverted-ness and recluse one has to work particularly hard to get out of such a negative mindset. In my pursuit of happiness I liked starting off with the small stuff when trying to get myself back to normal. Little things that I had let become mondane I started to point out and I tried to appreciate them for something pretty great, even if they were small things like the weather or the perfect amount of milk and sugar in your coffee. On top of that I tried to let the little things that get me down to not bother me. If I missed my bus, I would try and take it for what it is, a missed bus, nothing more and nothing less and eventually you let the little things that would have got you down slide off your shoulder (I found letting the little negative things go harder but it had the bigger impact of my happiness factor).
Note: If anyone who happens to read this wants a kick start in the right direction the book "1000 awesome things" is a good place to start.
Now, I know for a fact I can not take all the credit for my current start of happiness and bliss. I have a wonderful family and being back in the same country as my sisters has brought us much closer and I have enjoyed hanging out with them very much this year! Also going to Uni and meeting the great people I have has had a HUGE impact on my level of "loving-life-ness". Being around other optimistic people is a wonderful push in the right direction and being able to share laughs and good memories with others is further encouragement in seeing the bright side of things.
It is still tricky trying to see the positive side all the time (especially with exams around the corner) but its a work-in-progress and I am still learning.
today: sleep in, breakfast with ry, writing it all down
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Coming home to my "home"
Moving from Germany to Canada and making all the adjustments I had to, to settle back in was a mighty feat. The cultural differences, the overwhelming sensation of having the home and people I had longed for for 365 days right in front of me, and a million over small things that needed adjusting to over took some time to get used to. Mostly I didn't notice the struggle I felt but now that I feel so settled I recognize, in hindsight, the instability I felt when first arriving home.
"Home" as I so delicately call it is a rather fluid term in my vocabulary. Having moved "homes" 4 times over a year you realize that the terribly cheesy saying of "home is where the heart is" is more true than you ever realized. Currently my "home" is a very small University dormitory room, although I like to think of it as much bigger than that. Part of my home is the library where I spend more and more of my time. Adjusting to university style learning I spend a considerable amount of time studying for the variety of tests, midterms and exams I have. Part of my home is in Val's room. Val is my quasi roommate. We live in separate rooms attached by a washroom we share. As with the library, over the past 6 months at Laurier, I have spent more and more time in her room; although less studying gets done when we hang out versus when I' in the library! My home also consist of hanging out with Rylee, Josh and Jess, 3 other people living on my floor. Where we hang out is less consistent but most often consists of meals at the dining hall, study dates in the library, or hanging out in our dorm lounge. These three people have been a pleasure to get to know and I have the joy of living with Rylee (and Val) next year in a 3 bed room apartment while we study in Waterloo next year. Another part of my "home" is my parents house in Oakville. Although I am not there as often as I would like, it is always pleasant to go back and have a home cooked meal and have the long chats over dinner that I missed so much last year in Germany.
Although all of these things are what I currently consider home, in a few short months I will be heading back to Oakville where I will live for the summer months before moving into the previously mentioned apartment with Ry and Val. As my home continues to change I hope to hold true that where I put my heart a home will be created; no matter how brief a time I consider that place my home.
"Home" as I so delicately call it is a rather fluid term in my vocabulary. Having moved "homes" 4 times over a year you realize that the terribly cheesy saying of "home is where the heart is" is more true than you ever realized. Currently my "home" is a very small University dormitory room, although I like to think of it as much bigger than that. Part of my home is the library where I spend more and more of my time. Adjusting to university style learning I spend a considerable amount of time studying for the variety of tests, midterms and exams I have. Part of my home is in Val's room. Val is my quasi roommate. We live in separate rooms attached by a washroom we share. As with the library, over the past 6 months at Laurier, I have spent more and more time in her room; although less studying gets done when we hang out versus when I' in the library! My home also consist of hanging out with Rylee, Josh and Jess, 3 other people living on my floor. Where we hang out is less consistent but most often consists of meals at the dining hall, study dates in the library, or hanging out in our dorm lounge. These three people have been a pleasure to get to know and I have the joy of living with Rylee (and Val) next year in a 3 bed room apartment while we study in Waterloo next year. Another part of my "home" is my parents house in Oakville. Although I am not there as often as I would like, it is always pleasant to go back and have a home cooked meal and have the long chats over dinner that I missed so much last year in Germany.
Although all of these things are what I currently consider home, in a few short months I will be heading back to Oakville where I will live for the summer months before moving into the previously mentioned apartment with Ry and Val. As my home continues to change I hope to hold true that where I put my heart a home will be created; no matter how brief a time I consider that place my home.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
A small story of todays events.
Before you begin to read please note that I wrote this after work and that the spell check was checking for German spelling as the website automatically goes to the Germany version of blogspot, that being said the grammer and spelling in this story are probably going to be awful. Enjoy!
At 7:25am Julia watches her bus pass before her eyes before she has the chance to catch it. Fortunitaly she was planning on taking her bike along anyway and not wanting to miss her connecting tram she ignores the rain that is beginning to fall and mounts her bike to start heading down the hill toward the train station. As she begins her way there she notices the wind is not as strong has she had feared however still worried about the ever increasing amounts of rain she hunches her shouders down and trys to use the easy down hill slope to hurry toward the train station and to get out from under the looming clouds as quickly as she can.
After arriving at the train station and dragging her bike down and up the stairs to the proper platform she pulls off her coat,now safe under the roof from the now heavy rain. Dispite the fact that she had previously had her hood up her brow is still dampened from the rain and she can only imagine how discheveled she looks. Then noticing her reflection in the window from the train across the tracks her worries are confirmed and she can see that she looks as flustered as she feels. Her hair is curling in every direction from the humidty, there is a small rain patch on her tshirt from where her rain coat wasnt fully done up, her hands and elbow are scraped from when she fell of her bike trying the cross the tram tracks on the way to the station and the bike with her is about 2 sizes to big and an awful kelly green. Thankfully the train pulls out of the station and she doesnt have time to look further into her rather lack luster apperence. "What does it matter anyway, its not like the chickens will notice" she thinks to herself as her tram pulls up in front.
The Sbahn only takes about fifteen mins to get to the town she needs to be in and so for fifteen minutes Julia struggels to keep her bike upright and read her book at the same time. As she again struggels to get her bike down the stair off the train, and down the street, once arriving in the correct town, she begins to wonder whether or not this bike was such a good idea but dispite her small annoyance toward her bike she pedels forward toward Ruth's house.
Ruth is a mother of 2 and the wife to an apple and cow farmer. Julia met Ruth as Ruth was an organizer for her europian exchange program. Julia, living in a simple dorm about 45 mins away, often came to visit Ruth, to be with a family and to explore around her farm. On her last visit to Ruth's house Julia stumbled upon a chicken coop. Having been there many times before she was surprised she had never heard of them and at dinner, later that day, she asked about the chickens she had stumbled upon. From there she was informed that the chickens belonged to Ruth's inlaws (whom live in the lower level of the divided house) however the chickens would not be there much longer as they were to be slaughted in the next few weeks. Julia was very intreaged in hearing this. She had heard from others in her program how it was to kill turkeys and wanted to see what it was like first hand to be apart of such a process. Julia could tell Ruth was a little taken aback after she asked is she could to come and help, but despite her surprise Ruth told her she was more than welcome to come and help, first clarifying, that her inlaws would be helping slaughtering a neighbors chickens at the farm next Wednesday, should Julia be interested in coming then. And so the date was set and Julia would come Wednesday morning to help or more likely watch the killing of 19 chickens.
The rain was only a slight drizzel as Julia made the short way to Ruth's farm from the train station and she was beginning to be thankful she didnt have time for breakfast that morning, as her stomach had started to churn with nerves and thoughts of what she was about to do. Pedeling her bike faster to try and shake the nerves and sudden rush of adrenaline she was feeling she got to the farm earlier than expected and, had time to go up and say hi to Ruth and the kids before she was to head to barn to meet the chickens. Ruth helped calm Julia's nerves a little and after hearing Ruth's three year old, Rahel, talk about slaughtering like it was no big deal Julia realised her nerves were rather silly and by the time she was walking toward the Barn with Ruth and Rahel she had seem to have hidden her nerves away for the moment. In the barn Julia was introduced to the neighbor couple who was there with their chickens and said hello to the grandparents of which she had often seen around the farm. Before the proper Guten Morgen's (good morning in german) were exchanged a chicken was being pulled from its small coop and batted on the head with a stick to make it easier to cut the throat. The nerves which Julia thought she had to strategically hiden away came out, only this time they were accompanied with a quick gag reflex. Again Julia was happy to have skipped breakfast this particular morning.
Before she knew it she was in the middle of a small side room equiped with a sink, a counter and a defeathering machine with dead headless chickens on every surface in all different stages of the slaughtering process. By this time the two grandmothers (Ruth's mother inlaw and the wife of the neighbor couple) were there pluking out the feathers that had been missed by the machine, cutting off the feet and cleaning out the inards. They both chatted and gossiped as if they were out for coffee and cake, completely ignoring the foot, stomach ... or whatever other body part of a chicken seemed to be in their hand at that time. They went on chatting only stopping every once and a while to laugh at Julia who at this point was trying to help pluk out the feathers but had to stop at 15 second intervals to shake out the goose bumps that kept crawling up her spine when she pulled out a particularly stubern feather.
Slowly over the next two and a half hours Julia started to loosen up and actually started to be of some value to the two couples completing the slaughtering. She was pulling out the feathers without hesitation however never forgetting just how odd this all was to her.
Wanting to take this rather unique opportunity to its full potential Julia found herself between the two old women with a knive in her hand learning how to get the inards out, pulling out the fat and seperating the organs into those that are to be eaten and those to been thrown away. At first it was more than she bargined for, for here right in the middle of the room the stench of the chickens was much stronger then how it was when she was by the door (where she had been place earlier in case the need for a small break was in order). Also realising her whole hand must go inside the chicken and that the heart and lungs had to be torn out rather than just pulled out she had to take a few seconds to put her stomach back in it place for it felt like it had gone into her throat. A few chickens later she was able to cut and gut the chickens, not yet with ease but with a sence of pride knowing she wasn't completely doing things wrong. However as every chicken went by she knew she would soon have to get back on that damed bike and catch her train back to her house and back to her 12pm shift.
The time went quickly before she needed to leave, the last few chickens were being pluked and cleaned while the floor was being sweeped and cleaned of feathers and blood. Julia gladly helped right till the very end but as the chickenes were being loaded into the back of the neighbor's car she was happy to hear Ruth call, from the upstair balcony, that she had better go to catch her train.
Julia ran quickly to the outdoor sink, where the farm boys would normaly clean their hands before lunch, and scrubed her hands free of blood. Wiping her hands dry on her jeans she hunched on her coat and said a quick goodbye to the grandparents and to Ruth.And As she got on her bike and rounded the corner off the drive way she didnt mind the rain that still drizzeled on as she hoped it might rinse off any blood she might have missed.
The End
Some wonderful quotes from the day that I will very roughly translate into english:
"The chickens still warm, which is nice, it keeps your hands warm while you pull the guts out."
" Now you want to cut out the hole where the shit comes out first."
"Did you want to try and cut the head of this one?"
"Hear you can work by the door incase you need to... get some fresh air" (I think they thought I was going to puke)
"Let me clean the knife first." (rinses the knife with water that is red from blood) "ok much better"
Today: kill chickens, work, so tired, munich this weekend!!
At 7:25am Julia watches her bus pass before her eyes before she has the chance to catch it. Fortunitaly she was planning on taking her bike along anyway and not wanting to miss her connecting tram she ignores the rain that is beginning to fall and mounts her bike to start heading down the hill toward the train station. As she begins her way there she notices the wind is not as strong has she had feared however still worried about the ever increasing amounts of rain she hunches her shouders down and trys to use the easy down hill slope to hurry toward the train station and to get out from under the looming clouds as quickly as she can.
After arriving at the train station and dragging her bike down and up the stairs to the proper platform she pulls off her coat,now safe under the roof from the now heavy rain. Dispite the fact that she had previously had her hood up her brow is still dampened from the rain and she can only imagine how discheveled she looks. Then noticing her reflection in the window from the train across the tracks her worries are confirmed and she can see that she looks as flustered as she feels. Her hair is curling in every direction from the humidty, there is a small rain patch on her tshirt from where her rain coat wasnt fully done up, her hands and elbow are scraped from when she fell of her bike trying the cross the tram tracks on the way to the station and the bike with her is about 2 sizes to big and an awful kelly green. Thankfully the train pulls out of the station and she doesnt have time to look further into her rather lack luster apperence. "What does it matter anyway, its not like the chickens will notice" she thinks to herself as her tram pulls up in front.
The Sbahn only takes about fifteen mins to get to the town she needs to be in and so for fifteen minutes Julia struggels to keep her bike upright and read her book at the same time. As she again struggels to get her bike down the stair off the train, and down the street, once arriving in the correct town, she begins to wonder whether or not this bike was such a good idea but dispite her small annoyance toward her bike she pedels forward toward Ruth's house.
Ruth is a mother of 2 and the wife to an apple and cow farmer. Julia met Ruth as Ruth was an organizer for her europian exchange program. Julia, living in a simple dorm about 45 mins away, often came to visit Ruth, to be with a family and to explore around her farm. On her last visit to Ruth's house Julia stumbled upon a chicken coop. Having been there many times before she was surprised she had never heard of them and at dinner, later that day, she asked about the chickens she had stumbled upon. From there she was informed that the chickens belonged to Ruth's inlaws (whom live in the lower level of the divided house) however the chickens would not be there much longer as they were to be slaughted in the next few weeks. Julia was very intreaged in hearing this. She had heard from others in her program how it was to kill turkeys and wanted to see what it was like first hand to be apart of such a process. Julia could tell Ruth was a little taken aback after she asked is she could to come and help, but despite her surprise Ruth told her she was more than welcome to come and help, first clarifying, that her inlaws would be helping slaughtering a neighbors chickens at the farm next Wednesday, should Julia be interested in coming then. And so the date was set and Julia would come Wednesday morning to help or more likely watch the killing of 19 chickens.
The rain was only a slight drizzel as Julia made the short way to Ruth's farm from the train station and she was beginning to be thankful she didnt have time for breakfast that morning, as her stomach had started to churn with nerves and thoughts of what she was about to do. Pedeling her bike faster to try and shake the nerves and sudden rush of adrenaline she was feeling she got to the farm earlier than expected and, had time to go up and say hi to Ruth and the kids before she was to head to barn to meet the chickens. Ruth helped calm Julia's nerves a little and after hearing Ruth's three year old, Rahel, talk about slaughtering like it was no big deal Julia realised her nerves were rather silly and by the time she was walking toward the Barn with Ruth and Rahel she had seem to have hidden her nerves away for the moment. In the barn Julia was introduced to the neighbor couple who was there with their chickens and said hello to the grandparents of which she had often seen around the farm. Before the proper Guten Morgen's (good morning in german) were exchanged a chicken was being pulled from its small coop and batted on the head with a stick to make it easier to cut the throat. The nerves which Julia thought she had to strategically hiden away came out, only this time they were accompanied with a quick gag reflex. Again Julia was happy to have skipped breakfast this particular morning.
Before she knew it she was in the middle of a small side room equiped with a sink, a counter and a defeathering machine with dead headless chickens on every surface in all different stages of the slaughtering process. By this time the two grandmothers (Ruth's mother inlaw and the wife of the neighbor couple) were there pluking out the feathers that had been missed by the machine, cutting off the feet and cleaning out the inards. They both chatted and gossiped as if they were out for coffee and cake, completely ignoring the foot, stomach ... or whatever other body part of a chicken seemed to be in their hand at that time. They went on chatting only stopping every once and a while to laugh at Julia who at this point was trying to help pluk out the feathers but had to stop at 15 second intervals to shake out the goose bumps that kept crawling up her spine when she pulled out a particularly stubern feather.
Slowly over the next two and a half hours Julia started to loosen up and actually started to be of some value to the two couples completing the slaughtering. She was pulling out the feathers without hesitation however never forgetting just how odd this all was to her.
Wanting to take this rather unique opportunity to its full potential Julia found herself between the two old women with a knive in her hand learning how to get the inards out, pulling out the fat and seperating the organs into those that are to be eaten and those to been thrown away. At first it was more than she bargined for, for here right in the middle of the room the stench of the chickens was much stronger then how it was when she was by the door (where she had been place earlier in case the need for a small break was in order). Also realising her whole hand must go inside the chicken and that the heart and lungs had to be torn out rather than just pulled out she had to take a few seconds to put her stomach back in it place for it felt like it had gone into her throat. A few chickens later she was able to cut and gut the chickens, not yet with ease but with a sence of pride knowing she wasn't completely doing things wrong. However as every chicken went by she knew she would soon have to get back on that damed bike and catch her train back to her house and back to her 12pm shift.
The time went quickly before she needed to leave, the last few chickens were being pluked and cleaned while the floor was being sweeped and cleaned of feathers and blood. Julia gladly helped right till the very end but as the chickenes were being loaded into the back of the neighbor's car she was happy to hear Ruth call, from the upstair balcony, that she had better go to catch her train.
Julia ran quickly to the outdoor sink, where the farm boys would normaly clean their hands before lunch, and scrubed her hands free of blood. Wiping her hands dry on her jeans she hunched on her coat and said a quick goodbye to the grandparents and to Ruth.And As she got on her bike and rounded the corner off the drive way she didnt mind the rain that still drizzeled on as she hoped it might rinse off any blood she might have missed.
The End
Some wonderful quotes from the day that I will very roughly translate into english:
"The chickens still warm, which is nice, it keeps your hands warm while you pull the guts out."
" Now you want to cut out the hole where the shit comes out first."
"Did you want to try and cut the head of this one?"
"Hear you can work by the door incase you need to... get some fresh air" (I think they thought I was going to puke)
"Let me clean the knife first." (rinses the knife with water that is red from blood) "ok much better"
Today: kill chickens, work, so tired, munich this weekend!!
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