Chicken Eyebrows

That's gotta be the grossest title yet of any of my blog posts! There's a story behind it...

OK, so I got up this morning normally, I usually do get up in the morning, it's the normal thing for me to do...anyway. After the norm of getting ready for the day, I came downstairs to get online, and my mom had me get a little turkey pan for making a turkey. I had this funny feeling that she was going to have me dress it, because I never have done it, and she is big on us girls knowing how to do stuff. I was right. She had me dress and wash and stuff and stuff the turkey. Not the ideal job for me. Unfortunately, it happened to be our first organic turkey, and it still had the ends of some chicken feathers in it. I had to pull them out. I think I'm going to have nightmares about this for the rest of my earthly existence. One by one, sometimes two by two, i plucked out those evil looking little white feather sheaths. (is that what you call them? that's what they looked like, at least!) And then a thought dawned on me. It was just like plucking eyebrows! Only, of course, the chicken thingys were a little longer. And, they were white, which fortunately my eyebrows are not. (They were also all over the chicken.) Well, this is getting too disgusting! Maybe i'll change da subject.

My dad's in town right now. He's gone to pick up his little tractor that was just repaired. After he gets home with it he's going to try to clear off the pond with it and the plow instead of the snowblower. The last few years when he's done that something bad happened. Haha, it makes me lauhg. A couple years ago he went THROUGH the ice two times! It was like this, i looked out the window, and I must have exclaimed something, and soon everyone was gathered at the windows and door. We were all gaping with open mouths, and then we called my uncle who has a tractor, and some neighbors, etc. The tractor was slowly going down. Glug glug glug. It sounded like that. The ice was broken in huge jagged pieces, and it had brought up tons of poor little pollywogs with it. Bill was trying to get us to eat them. He said that they tasted like pickles. Only, maybe they were a little mushier. Oh, right. I didn't eat any. Too much for my stomach.