Picking Chicken

I stand at the sink picking chicken. I am not literally doing it in the sink, but a large cutting board resting over it creates extra make-shift counter space. I can look out of the window at leftover snow-clutter in the yard, and watch Dewey frolic around, muddying his paws.

Picking chicken forces me to be present in the moment while allowing my mind to wander slightly before bringing it back again. There is much to do, lots to keep up with, but right now feeding the family is on my mind, hence chicken picking.

The chicken I am picking comes from bones left from a meal we had earlier this week ~ a whole chicken cooked in the crock-pot. After eating what we could, the remains were placed in a covered Corning Ware dish in the refrigerator to be processed later.

Later is today. I cannot bear for food to go to waste, and if I don’t attend to this, that is exactly what will happen. It brings me to a Saturday afternoon picking chicken in front of the window. I am thinking and dreaming and trying to stay focused before slipping into the abyss that I often dangle above in my thoughts.

It’s quite the mental balancing act. Good thing I have this chicken to keep me grounded.

Earlier, I pulled two bags of broth from the freezer and emptied them into the slow-cooker. I added some salsa verde, cut the bigger pieces of meat from the bones, and opened two cans of great northern beans, leaving it all to cook for the day. Saturday meals are a challenge for me after a busy work-week. Here’s to white-chicken-chili with cheese and chips later!

I dropped the remaining chicken into a pot on the stove with some onion, covered it all with water, and left it to boil and simmer as chores and such took place. I turned the heat off, strained the broth, and left the bones to cool. There was a lot of meat still on them, leading me to the place of picking chicken.

Picking chicken is not my favorite, but if I do it, there will be meat in the freezer to pull out later. I can use it in my chicken pot pie recipe that is frugal, except for the time it takes to make it. A requested favorite, it will come in handy on a night when my son is unexpectedly home, and I want to cook up some love for him.

Picking and processing chicken is a skill that hearkens back to my field experience days as an at-home mom of lots of children. There was plenty of time to hone that skill as most everything was fixed from scratch as frugally as possible.

I am in a different season. Now I am trying to save for dreams on the horizon, and one way I can make money is by saving money, and one way to do that is by picking chicken.


2 thoughts on “Picking Chicken

  1. Stephanie

    I am cuddling a boy who no longer has a 104 fever, but is still sick enough for nothing to be right. Just in time for me to feel sick. Wanting to hibernate and wishing I could pass my kids off on their aunties. Thankful for a husband who is picking up the slack.


Thanks for heart-composting with me! I appreciate your words.

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