Apr
2016

Just a Chicken.

I’d never intended to become a butcher.  Frankly, the smell of raw meat repulsed me.  I was a delicate child, and the thought of handling animal carcasses all day filled me with a kind of visceral horror. But the inertia of reality prevailed and when the time came I inherited my father’s spotless white apron, and the name “Webber and Sons” ceased to have real meaning.

image

Continue reading