Last Monday, the Pantry coordinator showed me his latest purchase: a 40 lb. block of frozen chickens. He had not been informed that it came in one block rather than being individually packaged. We brainstormed ideas--how to get the birds separated without thawing? Who would undertake such a mission? (He clearly was not volunteering.)
In an excess of zeal, I offered to take the iceberg home, put it in my refrigerator until I could separate the birds and wrap them. As long as they stayed stiffly frozen, I figured, we would not be putting anyone at risk. So the thing was shoved into the trunk of my car and I drove the 5 blocks home.
In the garage, I levered the block onto my dolly and hauled it into the kitchen. Emptied the bottom shelf of the fridge. Measured the block to be sure it would fit. (Yes! 27" x 18" x 12"). Somehow got it into the refrigerator. That was Monday.
On Tuesday I picked Gee Gee up at the Austin airport as she returned from the holidays in Tampa. Discussed the matter on the way home; noted on arrival that the chicken had not thawed much. Deferred decision/action until the next day.
Today we again surveyed the chickens. We decided that they could come out into the kitchen to thaw enough to be separated. Then, seeking the assistance of whatever gods there be, I performed the above Chicken Dance. In a couple of hours I was able to separate the first two chickens from the block, and within the next hour all were rewrapped and in the freezer in the garage. We will transfer them to a cooler and drive them back to the food pantry's freezer this afternoon.
That's my story. It's not fiber, and it's taking apart, not stitching together. But it's done. End of Dance.