the turkeys are shoved face-down into a DecapiCone (TM) to diminish flapping.... and their carotid artery is severed. it happened very quickly. i went to this with no idea what to expect...
and i cried.
s hosing off a defeathered turkey.
i was too busy weeping like a fucking pussy to participate in the slaughter, even if i'd intended to; luckily, i'd deemed myself the 'documentarian' of the experience long before emotions interfered.
everyone, whether they eat meat or not, should see shit like this. it gave me great respect for the effort and delicacy involved. it also made me feel like i was either going to bawl or vomit.
the drive there was gorgeous: sunny early-morning sunshine...
devolving to castratingly-cold WIND and SNOW.
that was saturday.
*
sunday: visiting a container house on vashon island. this is made from a 40' long sealand shipping container.
the guy who owns the farm on which this house is located also salvaged a bunch of stop sign posts. i love this.
vashon is cool. i'd never been there. median demographic: age 54, white as rice, earnest. there are probably a lot of michael buble cds and toilet-side j peterman catalogues on vashon island. i think i am far too scurrilous and antsy to ever live in a place where there are no cities, concerts, dive bars, or dissonance, but it's comforting to know that such vistas are a mere ferry ride away.
ain't nothing wrong with a place where you pass random shit like this whilst driving.
*
monday: the snow hit seattle. hecatomb ran out on the deck, as she does. she came back quickly, skidding. "i told you so!" i chided her.
this is when the snow was barely dusting. before the north winds hit. before the hideous rush hour commute, the articulated buses jackknifing in the battery tunnel... before my street was, once again, closed.
i took a terrifying bus ride to renton and spent my birthday at k's house-sitting lair, eating excellent pasta, enjoying an awesome bloody mary made with bacon-flavored vodka, and drinking cabernet from the bottle whilst sitting in an outdoor hot tub and feeling fat snowflakes hit my naked skin. may i recommend coconut butter on hot toast? apparently i said it was like "licking the asscrack of a woman wearing a lot of suntan oil." k was still cackling about that this morning.
*
life is good.
*
today: bus ride back to seattle. the sun was shining brilliantly on the several inches of accumuli. temperature: 20F, if that. s and i went to re:public for the previously cited chorizo-'pus. and i had my first true carne crudo.
i recommend this also.
now: carla bruni, comfortable silence, peace. i am happy. it has been intensely therapeutic to have several days off. it's been so fucking nice to savor the moment.
i shall close with a crappily taken photograph of the view from the hot tub, because it was such a completely miserable experience. sigh!
No comments:
Post a Comment