In a sweet old children's book about Holidays we read last night about the origins of Memorial Day.  It appears to have begun in the South after the Civil War as a way to honor American soldiers irrespective of which side they fought on.  A sweet story was told of a boy whose two brothers were fighting on opposite sides, so in their honor he had a suit of clothing made from half of an old uniform of each, and with the two sewn together, he went and put flowers on all of the graves in the country graveyard outside of town.  The town was currently being occupied by the Confederates, but when they saw his touching tribute, they allowed him to pass unmolested as he paid respect to all who have given their lives for us.

Our family found a rather unique way to spend the holiday: we spent the day slaughtering chickens!

Yes, you heard me right, chickens.  We currently have almost 1000 broiler hens ready to sell, and that means 1000 birds that need to be killed, gutted, and readied for market.  I wasn't sure if this was something I could do, so I showed up at the farm feeling really quite apprehensive about the whole thing.  Turns out it wasn't quite as terrible as I had imagined, although I am not ready to try my hand at the actual killing of the birds.  I ended up being rather fascinated by their innards; it reminded me of eleventh grade physiology, when I enjoyed dissecting.  Strangely enough, David was the most interested and active participant in the day.  He was very fascinated by the process and jumped in to help wherever possible.  He is really LOVING having these two men to follow around the farm (not to mention their tools to admire and occasionally fetch).

All in all, definitely a day to remember!