I have been forced to do domestic things. I hate domestic things. HATE THEM. I hate laundry and cleaning and cooking and all that crap. Heck, most the time I'm not even a fan of showering or brushing my hair. (Lyn will attest to this) But, I have been forced to do something today that is so foreign to me I can't even explain it.
I am cooking chickens.
Full chickens. They look like they are kneeling prisoners that I have been torturing. I mean - headless naked prisoners. With no hands or feet, but you get the idea. Anywho, I am cooking chickens. I think it's called... roasting. Of course, I've been cooking them for hours now and have no idea how to tell if they are done.
I had to clean out my deep freeze last night because my brother and I bought half a cow. In order to put it in there, I had to move a whole ton of crap out and I discovered I had 5 chickens. So, in order to fix that, I am doing this.
I also am cooking a ton of hamburger that I found I hadn't used from the last time my family bought a cow.
In rebellion, I'm still in my pjs and I walked the dogs without brushing my teeth.
Ick! You poor girl!! I hate to cook to begin with, but all THAT nasty meat? Ugh...I think you'd earned a week of rest after this!! :-)
ReplyDeleteHow big is this freezer in which you had 5 chickens you forgot about?
ReplyDeleteI know the feeling... my parents gave me a chicken from the last time they butchered... a year later, I still had it in my freezer- so I gave it back to them.
ReplyDeleteSad, eh?
Evil G: It was gorss.
ReplyDeleteRoger: It's a medium sized one. Not an apartment size or a giant family one. I could probably fit in it though.
Jen: I am not a good farm girl. The thought of butchering a chicken totally makes me hurl. I like to think they magically appear at Safeway just as they are.
Isn't it a good thing we're all different? All I could think of was "lucky girl, she get's to spend a day cooking. Wish I could be doing that. I'd probably even be able to get a load of laundry done".
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