Meet your chicken, I mean, dinner

We had company last weekend:

Cousins zoning out to cartoons before bed.

Paul's brother, his wife and their son made the long, looooong trip to visit us (since we're like, stuck here for all eternity).  The kids ran around like crazy kids.  We went to the beach.  They ate lots of food.  They chased lots of livestock.  Fun was had by all.

But there is one thing that they left with us that I had to share with you.  When the kids were snug in their beds, the grown-ups got to watch Adult movies.  No, not X rated movies, but rather movies that didn't involve Sponge Bob or Care Bears.  We were introduced to "Portlandia".  Paul's brother brought the first season down for us to watch and the first skit was great.

Organic Free Range Hazelnut-Eating Chicken

Go ahead, click on it.  It's not very long (just over 2 minutes).  But I'm telling you, I almost wet my pants.  Especially when the waitress whipped out the "file" on Colin.  And the hypocrisy that they would drive 60 miles round trip (spewing out all those nasty greenhouse gases....wait a second, they probably had a bovine methane powered smart car, never mind) in order to check out the farm that the chicken, I mean, Colin, who's flesh they were about to consume, was raised on.

I guess I really shouldn't be complaining.  I think it's great that people are once again becoming more familiar with exactly where their food comes from and want to know it was raised in a humane manner.  But seriously, I KNOW stuff like this happens (well, maybe not exactly, but probably darn close) and it almost makes me want to NOT be one of those "Organic Hippy Homegrown Homebutchering" kind of gals.  Maybe I don't like it because it has become more "mainstream" and the yuppies are getting organic-orgasms every time they walk into Trader Joe's.  I don't anyone to look at me like I'm a total snob because we raise our own eggs or meat or vegetables or compost or rocks.  We raise what we can, when we can.  We try to buy local.  We try to barter with friends for things we don't have.  But don't be shocked if you come over and find a bag of Cheezy Poofs next to the raw sunflower seeds or a store bought package of tilapia fillets next to the venison liver in the freezer.  My daughter ate a bucket of popcorn smothered in fake butter at the movies yesterday afternoon and washed it down with a handful of M&M's.

Anyways.  Where was I going with this one?  Probably nowhere.  Because I have basically run out of ideas for blog posts.  I have a feeling that it's going to be a very, very quiet July for some of us on the blogosphere.