Friday, 9 December 2005

gobble smacked

A group of us have made a tradition of having a pre-christmas meal at Nina and Tom's house for the last few years. We all volunteer to take along a different part of the meal.

This year, like last year, we have been designated Bringers Of The Turkey.

I have just phoned Northern Harvest to see if they have any available ... the last-ditch-ordering-date for christmas meat was November 24th, so I couldn't just do my usual point-and-click ordering on Monday.

The woman on the phone was very helpful, if rather direct:

Me: Would it be possible to order a Turkey, for this week? It's for a meal on Saturday the seventeenth.
Lady: Possibly. I'll have to phone the supplier and ring you back.
Me: No problem - I realise it's rather late on.
Lady: No, no, no problem. It's just that the birds aren't dead yet.
Me: Pardon?!
Lady: Well, they're still on the farm. So if they kill them themselves, I am sure it will be fine. But if they have to send them away to slaughter, it might be an issue.
Me: [on autopilot] Ah. I'll wait for your call then. Thank you. Goodbye.
I don't know *why* it stunned me in to silence, *of course* I know that they keep the birds alive right up until the last minute. But I feel rather peculiar and think I need to go and have a cup of tea and a biscuit to recover.

I faithfully promise that my next post will be about something other than food.

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