Life on a farm

It's amazing how many times people have expressed their jealousy of my current situation. How great it would be to be surrounded by all those animals. Commenting on photos of baby pigs and cows, saying how cute they are.

Life is great, I feel I have expressed that enough through my blogs. However summer is a time where crops need cropping, and work for most people resides at home! That's great I hear you say, it must be lovely to work at home all day. Work on a farm is tiring and hot and the fruits of your labour come to fruition at this point.

This is good in some respects; going to the garden to grab a fresh, warm, sun ripened peach, or a bunch of grapes. However, it is also at this point that those cute little baby animals turn into meal sized critters and the slaughter begins!

I still to this day don't know how people can do this. My host grand- mother cries when she has to kill a chicken, it's always a sad day, she still cries now at the loss of her favourite bull, which she didn't kill, she swapped it for a smaller bull and somebody else took care of the dirty work!

Why does this make me sad though? I don't know! These animals are not only free from cruelty, they are loved throughout there lives, cared for, at times, like babies. Yet I fail to account that without the death of animals we, as a species, would not have evolved into what we are. Monkeys are perfectly adapted to forage fruit from trees, and those that came down, learned to graze and even occasionally kill an animal. However our design and evolution stems from hunting ....primitive man, making "primitive weapons"** and using them to catch food for their families.

**the term primitive weapons commonly described weapons that "non-primitive"*** man would not have a clue how to use!!!!

***non-primitive man includes us, the mollycoddled mass of our time, who without electricity or technology, would maybe last about 1 month! Exceptions being dole walling scum who would probably last about a week as they would be more interested in where the drink and drugs was coming from to worry about learning to hunt and forage!

If/when society as we know it crumbles under its own weight, it is the "second, less privileged worlds" that will carry on the genes of homosapien into the future and become the new man, whilst those of us who live wrapped in blankets of dollars and pounds will be using that same comfort blanket to cover the faces of those too weak survive! Bleak? Maybe so, but let's face facts here, or let's do what we always do, pretend it's not put problem, and that it will never happen to us!

What is that smell?

It was just another normal evening in the village of ochkhomuri, everyone drinking cups of tea whilst watching the nine o'clock news. I was feeling pecking and knew leila had just made me some fresh cheese. This, and the smell of fresh bread, permeating the air had worked up quite an appetite. Food this fresh always tastes great. The smell was delightful. I switched flicked on the kettle and I poured the water into my cup, watching the swirling of the tea as it oozed from the bag. I love little moments like these, it makes you realise why the fast food junkies of the west are often so depressed .....preparation is healthy.

Of course this is simple logic to some of us, I also understand that not everyone has time to prepare a meal,, but remember I was only preparing fresh bread and cheese! However, it's this preparation that makes us desire the food more, therefore becoming more hungry as we make it. This may burn off some fat, but more importantly it's that sense of accomplishment, the satisfaction caused by the window of patience you just created for yourself.

However, had I been given prior notice that on this occasion my satisfaction was not to be achieved, I would have been very grateful to have been handed a nasty little bit of processed cow bones and offal fried up and served as what they like to call the "Mc-Cheese burger"! I'm not on a high horse now though; I used to fall victim for these desire of non food, and still to this day get the occasional craving! However, I digress!

As the tea swirls began to encapsulate all of the water, staining it a warm coppery crimson, I began cutting my cheese, only to be distracted by the sound of Ilia's Lada chugging down the drive; followed by commotion. Ilia came into the house and began spouting of fast Megrelian, the local language I still fail to understand. I knew only one thing, there was something in his car and everyone, besides Tea (pronounced tay-a), was going to look at it. I asked Tea what was in the car, she smiled and said ....."go have a look". Naively I wandered outside to see what all the commotion was about, only to be halted in my steps by a wall of putridity that stained the air ahead of my tracks. I looked in the car, there were two huge baskets with bags inside, stained and bulging at maximum capacity. The smell was making me sick to my stomach, but I couldn't move out of intrigue as to what was in these bags; whilst hopefully getting an answer to what this totally foreign smell was! I felt something wet against my toe and for a second thought nothing of it, until it began to trickle down the side of my foot! I looked down and recoiled in shock! .......Eight cows legs freshly killed and bleeding all over my foot! I immediately rushed to wash my foot in the shower, I heard the sound of laughter as I went. To these people this was just an everyday occurrence, but before coming to Georgia I had never really been close to live cows for any period of time, never mind dead ones!

This place is full of surprises and now full of the lingering stench of death! More over, the dog keeps finding entrails and dragging them into the house .....and all those people that worry about a dead mouse or bird that your cat may bring home as a present for you, just imaging a cows brain slumped on the floor in front of your dog!