Recap: I fail...

I TOTALLY forgot about the event that got us going, bright and early on Saturday morning. Allyson, prior to our arrival, purchased a cow for the wedding and the rest of the week. So on Saturday morning, we woke up 30 minutes early to go Old Testament on this livestock. The cow, understandably so, was late to the event. But Justin, the man of the hour, was a patient man...it gave him more time to sharpen his knife. Pirtle kindly held his alternatives, in case something went wrong. But that would later prove to be a poor decision on his part. We brought the cow to the an open area of grass by the kitchen. After hog tying it and tucking its tail, they said a prayer over it, Avatar style. Then we waited in anticipation for the green light to begin the slicing. They carefully stretched out the neck skin so that Justin would have a good, tight surface to cut into. Once he started he got through the first layer, then stopped, early. He got back after it and cut the trachea and stopped early again. He continued on until he almost got to the spine. That's when the blood started flowing. It was at this point that I started thinking back to all the Levitical laws of slaughtering the offering and how this was a daily occurrence. But my reminiscing was cut short when Bessie started to breathe. You could hear the air flowing in and out with a bit of gurgling to it.

This is when Pirtle having the sharp objects became a poor decision. I'm pretty sure the amount of blood that came out of the cow had also dropped down from Pirtle's head. He was whiter than Casper. He managed to mumble out, "I've gotta go sit down" as his wide eyed face slowly looked the other direction and began to move. Thankfully, his wife, Heather, thought it best he not carry the knives and took them out of his hands. In a tunnel-visioned daze, he took a seat beyond earshot of the soon to be sirloin.

What seemed like forever, turned out to be just a few minutes. And just like that, we had dinner for the rest of the week! It was a cool experience to see how they survive out there. There's not a Tom Thumb to drive to within a few thousand miles of where they are, so they have to do the job themselves. Thankfully, Justin didn't poorly represent us inept Americans by cutting off an udder or something. And we were able to eat well for the rest of the week.