Last Sunday, a nasty chore awaited us: the annual slaughter of our free-range chickens. I love eating chicken, I love the idea that they had an outdoor existence and greenery under their paws. That barely a few meters separate his living environment from my kitchen. This chicken has practically no roads in its body.
Rusty
Preparing for this ritual always takes a long time. Set up our cutting table, put the water to boil on the fire, sharpen the knives… It also serves to prepare the head. A big chicken like that will feed my family for a week, which is no small thing in these times when groceries are more and more expensive. Despite everything, it’s never a fun time.
Plucking the first chickens was laborious. The soaking water was not hot enough. My gestures were rusty. I spent half an hour plucking out the clinging feathers, cursing my desire to cultivate this “know-how.”
Know-how
Because ultimately, that’s what it’s all about: maintaining a gesture buried in our memories that has allowed so many generations to eat and survive. Like canning your tomatoes. Like cooking your meals. These gestures are becoming increasingly rare.
It’s so easy today to just go to the grocery store to stock your pantry or order from yet another app. But what do we do with this learned knowledge, gosses in experience, accumulated and transmitted from generation to generation for centuries? All these opportunities for exchanges and sharing between our elders and those who follow them. These old people who feel useless by technology. How do we still cultivate this wonderful power to do things ourselves? These things that we are now condemned to buy constantly.
I would also like us to talk about these things in decision-makers’ offices.
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