Hi everybody and welcome to the final instalment of The Hog Blog! I hope you’ve all enjoyed reading it and I’m pleased to let you know that Nicola’s adventures raising her pigs continues beyond what she has written about on this blog so there is a good chance that more instalments may appear somewhere in the future.
The Hog Blog – February 2008, part 4
I spent today sorting out who gets what and what will be left. By the time I have given Jules and Joe their share and taken some for me, the pile looks smaller. But there is still a lot to sell and it takes about seven minutes to clear the lot. We cooked a small pan of the sausages in the kitchen, opened the office doors, allowed the sweet smell to roll up the building and it worked. People arrived with their purses and cheque books and then it was gone. I just managed to write down who had what in time. But then there were the disappointeds. I kept having to nip back to my own supply and raid the sausages and chops – but not giving my joint away. Then I felt like Jonesy in Dad’s Army, sidling up to some of the disappointeds with a small package and nodding at them conspiratorially.
Meat is currency, and getting cash back for it gives me a good, wholesome feeling. I worked harder physically for that pork than I have in a lifetime of sitting at a computer. But I still have only made a tiny dent in my original costs, and those costs will rise if I get more to fatten. I am hooked, and write out cheques like a mad woman who has won the pools.
So, I can do meat. I immediately order another couple of fatteners from the farm in Devon. They will be about a couple of weeks behind Trotter and Elvis in age – so now I will get meat from three pigs instead of one. And I will still have my breeders, Elvis and Mabel. That will be the next learning curve.
Love has not sprung up between them yet, but I am hopeful. Elvis is incredibly friendly – almost gobby. I have clothed him in my mind in a rather jaunty leather jacket and some torn jeans – I know he will grow up to be a quirky ne’er-do-well, just my sort of a bloke. And I hope that my precious, stand-offish Mabel with her priggish lace cap will quiver with desire and fall under his spell. I now know I was over Beatrix-Potter’d as a child.
The weather at the moment is amazing. Still frosty and freezing at night, sunny during the day. It’s like skiing weather: it’s perfect. In the afternoons, at about 4.30, it is magical, with the sun going down on a golden pink sky and opposite a silvery full moon has risen already. We have a little robin friend. He keeps hopping about the pig pen pecking at something on the ground – maybe husks of straw or something the pigs are dropping. When he is there the wagtails are not. I heard robins were the bullies of the bird world; maybe it is true.
The End (for now)