So I'm on my way to take a non-smoker smoke break. You know one of those 10 minute get away from the stress of work moments that you need to have but since you aren't a smoker you don't get to use that wonderful excuse.

Got sidetracked before getting to the stairs. One of our, shall we say, more "prissy" young ladies (more polite would be to probably refer to her as a city girl and leave it at that *shrug*) was holding court and talking about the great outdoors and fishing.

I paused and joined the discussion group by observing that when first presented with the need to gut a fish when I was younger caused me to pause. Being raised on a farm does not mean you are automatically able to deal with some of the more unpleasant aspects of life, it just means you tend to be exposed to them more often and earlier.

Someone in the group mentioned that they couldn't picture the young lady milking a goat (must have missed a part of the earlier discussion to have understood why a goat was the specific animal)

This somehow spurred her to talk about chickens and the conversation turned to killing chickens...

which of course at the same time both reminds me of my blog about the Chickens and also reminds me of the first time I ever saw my stepfather cut a chicken's head off with an axe.

Up until this point in my life I had heard the phrase "Running around like a chicken with its head cut off"

But let me tell you, hear and know... Having heard the phrase does in no way prepare you for the very first time that you see a headless chicken running around... flapping its wings... and bouncing off of trees.

definitely an intense experience.

And I had one of those moments of realization... I hadn't forgotten about the event with the headless chickens, but I hadn't thought about it in the same context as thinking about the chicken coop.

The headless chicken experience was about a year or so before the time that my mother said those now semi-infamous words, "Don't worry the chickens won't hurt you."

Is there any real surprise to why my young mind viewed the creatures with such fear and trepidation? I mean the blasted creatures take nearly ten minutes to realize that they are dead.

Ready for the twist in this whole train of thought? My ex wife asked me what my job is and I still haven't figured out how to answer that. Follow that one if you can. And tell me what you find there, that could be a very interesting conversation.