Last year, the twins and I used the Mystery of History I curriculum during 6th grade. We had a blast learning all about ancient Egypt. I did notice the Mummifying a Chicken project was mentioned somewhere in the "Other Activities" pages in the back of the book. But still. I definitely didn't point that out to my boys.
Chickens rotting in the kitchen? No thank you.
But guess what??
Mummifying chickens was mentioned yet again.
Can you just imagine any 13 year old boys who might not find the disgusting prospect of handling raw chickens and tossing them around in the kitchen a little too intriguing?? Of course, my two wanted to try it.
And then. Then I clicked on over to Scribbit one fateful day in October because I so enjoy reading Michelle's blog about life with her family in beautiful Alaska. Because it rarely snows here and she has several inches on the ground already! And because I have never experienced the delight of looking out of my kitchen window to discover a moose casually gnawing on my trees. And because we have no grizzly bears or mountains or raging rivers around here. And also because she has some yummy recipes and she has teenagers and well, she's interesting and I just generally like reading there...
Only guess what I found when I innocently made my way over to Scribbit at the end of October?
Yes. More stinking mummified chickens! She had written an entire post complete with directions and pictures for goodness sake, and I there I sat, satisfying my own morbid curiosity...when lo and behold one of my twins sneaks right up behind me and darn it! I couldn't click off fast enough! He saw it. Chicken mummies! Shoot. Instant bombardment with begging and pleading.
So I decided if I can't beat 'em, might as well join 'em.
I gave in.
And today? Today we began embalming our two mini-fowl. And since Scribbit's pictures are what got me into this in the first place (sort of) I'm going to have to do what's right and share some photos of my own.
Here we have chicken number 1 with twin probing the innards and removing whatever bits and parts the bird manufacturing plant left in there. (We also have one slightly rusty cookie sheet, which was given to me as a gift last Christmas. Please ignore.)
Here we have a boy carefully patting his chicken dry after his chicken bath in warm water and alcohol. (Rubbing alcohol, not rum. The rum is for the mom...moms should be pickled and not mummified. Also one extremely rusty cookie sheet given to me last Christmas.)
Here we have a chicken running for dear life...
Here we have Ryan's chicken, marinating in his own specially selected spices...bay leaves and rosemary.
Well, look, I don't care if the ancient Egyptians didn't have any dried rosemary lying around the sand dunes. I was all out of Franckincense and Myrrh,and the instructions said we had to pick spices to mask the scent of rotting chicken flesh, ok??)
Here's Zach's chicken in his original recipe of cinnamon and nutmeg. And also salt, baking soda and something else. I forget. My mind is numb.