Out, damn'd spot! out, I say!—One; two: why, then
'tis time to do't.—Hell is murky.—Fie, my lord, fie, a soldier, and
afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our
pow'r to accompt?—Yet who would have thought the old man to
have had so much blood in him?
Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 1, 26-40I'm beginning to understand what she's talking about, even though my conscience hasn't walking me all night.
I've been working this week at getting the meat rabbits ready for consumption, and the whole experience, even though it's faster than with the chickens, is quite a different one.
Firstly, the rabbits struggle more, and if I don't have a VERY firm hold, they scratch quite badly. Secondly, the amount of force required is bigger and lastly, the amount they bleed is soo much more.
And as for my conscience, I must be turning into a true farming carnivore as their cuteness doesn't stop my hand, nor does it trouble me at any time. I assume having given them a good life before, I am at peace with what I'm doing now?!
And in the spirit of "waste not, want not" I am even trying my hand at making rabbits feet for good luck and keeping the furs. What for not sure yet, as I have to learn how to tan them first. And I've already got requests for pillows!
And in keeping in another spirit of documenting everything, here are some pics from the first bunny roast and first tomato harvest.
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