Grandma's Chicken..

My grandmother is from Guerrero, Mexico. From a little pueblito called Llano Real minutes from a rough beach with treacherous waves that will suck you into the ocean, good swimmer or not. When I was 8 years old I visited Mexico for the first time. My trip there was unforgettable but that is another story. All I wanted to share with you on this post is that of a scarring event that unfolded one afternoon... the process of making a live chicken into dinner. I cannot explain the horror that came upon me when grandma swiftly cut off the head of a struggling chicken. I promised myself after I saw the gruesome butchering of this poor animal that I would become a vegitarian. Two hours later I was eating delicious Chicken Noodle Soup. Oh the mind of a young feller. Now a days I laugh at my self for the lucrocious thoughts that clouded my mind. For one second I thought of my grandma as a careless murderer. Now I order chicken sandwiches left and right at fast food joints. Chickens... We can't live with them and we can't live without them LOL