Warning: may not taste good to all readers.

I may not be where I’m heading, but I’m definitely not where I once was. Every now and then I’m reminded of this. Like today. I finally decided it was about time I joined in on the savings at my neighborhood (as in outskirt of town) meat farm. I know few family members who have been doing this for years: buying a whole lamb (or goat and sometimes cow) at a farm, and storing it for consumption over a long period. It’s supposed to be cheaper than buying in small quantities from a grocery store.

So after buying an extra freezer, finding a space for it in my already crowded house (and deciding on a corner in my office), I finally drove down to a farm this afternoon. As soon as I entered the slaughterhouse, I knew I was someplace else. The stench was almost unbearable; there was blood everywhere. And everywhere immigrants; an African looking couple, couple of South American groups, lots of Asians, and John. (more…)