How Joel Salatin Nets 60k/year On 20 Acres of Rented Land

  Okay this is only a 10 minute teaser clip, but I was still absolutely excited and inspired after watching it!! Joel Salatin explains how he NETS $60,000 every year on 20 acres of rented land, via hogs. I learned all this stuff while I was at Polyface last year, but it's still great to see and hear it all over again. It really works, folks. Had I decided to stay here in Oregon instead of head to Missouri, then I would have been doing this. It was my original plan; raising Berkshire and Hereford hogs to sell for a premium price to local customers, restaurants, and the local butcher shop.

 Maybe I'll pick that plan up when I come back... First things first, right?

Righteous Bacon

If there is one thing that catches my attention on websites and blogs, it is high quality photos. And when you put high quality content in tandem with the high quality photos, then you've got a winner right there.

I say all this because I found a new blog last night, and I'm already loving it.

It's called Righteous Bacon. Awesome name for an awesome blog. Check it out, by clicking the highlighted title!

Polyface Primer

Learning from Polyface has just gone up a notch. He's now offering DVD's specific to every aspect of their farm!!! If you can't go to Polyface personally, I think this is probably the best substitute. I was so ridiculously excited to see their first DVD is about raising hogs!!! It's exactly what I've been wishing I could find! So yep, I bought it today. So, so excited to get it!

Feelin' Rich

See that stuff in the skillet? It's bacon.

But not just any bacon. It's bacon from MY hogs. I had a celebratory dinner tonight. :)

I had always heard that homegrown pork beats store bought pork hands down where taste is concerned, but I still wondered just how true that was... How different can pork taste? 

Gracious me, I have just seen the light. I had always loved bacon, but tonight was my first time to ever try homegrown bacon. My fondness for this meat cut has just skyrocketed. It. Was. Incredible. Don't ask how much I ended up eating. Hehe. One thing is for sure though: This farm girl will never not raise hogs. 

When my bacon was done cooking, I went and sat outside on the back deck; eating bacon from my own hogs, while my English Shepherd sat at my feet, and I watched my new milk cow silently meander through the pasture.

I'm feelin' rich tonight.

P.S.

Forgot to mention this earlier, but there is enough backfat from my hogs for me to make some homemade lardo!!! I'm ridiculously excited and my family is completely grossed out by the whole idea. *grin*

I think I'll start my batch sometime this week. :) It takes a month or two to cure, so I better get cracking!

Exactly

An Awesome Hog

Over the last year, I've been slowly learning about the rare breed hog known as the Mangalitsa... And quite frankly, I'm intrigued. I think these wooly pigs are awesome. :)

Makin' Bacon

Pigs have really small hearts.

True fact.

I guess I had never thought about the size of a pig heart before... And then I couldn't believe how small it was when the butcher fished Mike's out. Make a fist with your hand; that's about how big the heart was. They were pretty big pigs; not as big as I wanted, but still a good size... And only a fist-sized heart to keep those porkers running? I thought it was interesting anyway. ;)

So yep, the butchers came, the butchers - ah - butchered, and then they left with two carcasses which will age for a week before being cut. All in forty minutes. I was in awe.

I had never met these two guys who were coming to deal with my hogs. I didn't even know where they were coming from. All I knew was that a total stranger in Dallas swore by them and told me that I absolutely had to use these guys if I was looking for a mobile butcher, and that I wouldn't be dissapointed. So I took the stranger's word and so far I feel pretty good about the decision.

I liked the butcher's sense of humor. :) Cheerful and at ease, he smiled and asked to see my hogs. I immediately felt comfortable with letting him take my Tamworths down and finish the job I had started. He and his working partner took a look around my humble pig pen, and then went to get their tools. It was time. 

Armed with a high-power rifle, and his partner with a knife, the two went back to where Mike and Sausage were. The butcher explained that he did his absolute best to take each pig down with one shot, and he would wait as long as needed to get that shot. Once a pig went down, his partner's job was to jump in and slit the jugular before the pig's heart stopped beating. 

I stood back and watched quietly.

Mike and Sausage were definitely patience testers. Used to human contact, they felt no reason to come and check the two intruders out, so they instead kept their heads down in the newest hole they were rooting up; blissfully intent on finding some small smackerel deep down in the cool depths of their composted bedding. I offered to get some grain to lure the boys where the butcher needed them, but he declined. He could wait, he said... He'd wait for the right moment. It probably only took five minutes before they got curious, but it seemed like a year. Mike lifted his head and looked at us, and that was all the butcher needed. The butcher's shot was uncannily accurate, and Mike went down with that one shot. The second guy stepped in and did his part; cleanly slitting the jugular right before Mike's body went into spasms. When shooting hogs and cows, there is ONE small spot that you have to hit if you want an instantaneous death. You draw an imaginary 'X' on the face. Ear to eyeball. And right in the middle of that X, just off center, is that one spot. 

Sausage was not bothered in the least by the sudden demise of his pal. The smell of hot blood excited him and he began looking for where the smell was coming from. Two minutes later, he too went down. 

The rest of the work went fast. The carcasses were hosed clean, and then the two men began working on skinning. They made it look so easy... I was envious of their little slaughtering rig and their wicked sharp knives. I leaned against the barn wall and quietly watched; only occasionally saying something, or laughing along with the butcher at something. He kept reiterating that it was 100% okay to ask questions if I had any; but being the quiet person that I am, I didn't have any to ask, save for how long they've been doing this and why they started; so I stayed quiet, enjoyed watching them work, and took mental notes of their methods. 

So, I do have to admit something... I may "enjoy" butchering/slaughtering, but no matter how many animals I do, the eyeballs always creep me out. Blood doesn't bug me, killing them doesn't phase me, gutting is no problem, but those eyeballs? Creepy. And once the hogs were were skinned, but their heads still remained on... Well, I tried not to look at that end of the carcass. Ever seen the eye of a pig? It looks like a human eye. Seriously. And with the head having been skinned too, it made a rather gruesome sight that took a couple minutes to get used it. 

Gore aside, I liked watching the butchers pull out all sorts of handy doodads to do their job. I think the coolest thing they pulled out was something that looked like a chainsaw and they used that little thing to zip right down the spine. *insert swoon* I've had to split a few carcasses before, but I always had to use a handsaw. It's slow, exhausting work. Made even more tedious by a slightly dull saw that had teeth too small for the job. -_- So watching them use their chainsaw deal had me smiling in envy. Now THAT'S a fun toy! 

Forty minutes. That's all it took. Mike and Sausage went from squealing on the hoof, to hanging carcasses that frankly looked nothing like a pig. The butchers packed up and I smiled at the simplicity of my morning. There wasn't even a mess for me to clean up. Not a single trace that they had been here. They took the carcasses back to their shop where they'll hang for a week or so, then be cut up and I'll go and pick up all that lovely meat. 

And I'm sure you've noticed by now that there aren't any pictures. :-/ I thought about bringing the camera out, but decided not to. This time anyway. Let's ease our way into this butchering stuff... I don't need any flack about graphic images right now. 

My little brothers who named Mike and Sausage told me yesterday that they want pink pigs next time. And their names have to be Bob and Bacon. I smiled and told them I'd see what I could do...

Not a bad gig, this hog stuff... I think I kinda' like it. :)

Tomorrow

I had chicken blood spattered all over my arms and skirt this afternoon, when a family member came running up with the phone in her hand. "It's for you!" She mouthed dramatically, and motioned me over. I was in the middle of butchering some chickens. Sigh... Did I really have to stop what I was doing? Guess so.

Turns out that it was the mobile butcher, calling to ask if we could reschedule the hog slaughtering from Friday to tomorrow morning. 

I fleetingly smirked at the irony of the situation as I spoke with the butcher while trying to rub dried chicken blood off my free arm. Two days in a row of slaughtering; I was game for it. I told him yes, and agreed to meet him in my driveway at 9am the next day.

Oh Mike and Sausage... You've been fun boys, but you're getting to big for me. It's time to go to freezer camp.

I haven't decided yet if I'll keep the camera handy tomorrow, but I'm sure I'll have stories to tell. :) This will be my first hog slaughtering, and I'm looking forward to it.

Sausage = Bacon

I just got off the phone with my mobile processors, and they'll be coming out on May 3rd to butcher Mike and Sausage, my Tamworth pigs that I've been raising over the winter. I am ready for the boys to be turned into bacon. So ready. 

This morning I was sound asleep (and when I say "asleep" I mean it. I sleep like the dead), when my subconscious heard a small noise coming from the far end of the pasture. It was the sound of a hog touching the electric fence and squealing in surprise. How I did it, I don't know; but one moment I was in deep sleep, and the next I was wide awake and jumping out of bed without fully realizing what was going on. I can sleep through a fire alarm going off just outside my bedroom door (I've done it twice. Thankfully both were false alarms), I can sleep through toddlers running and screaming through the house as they play "good guy vs. bad guy", I can sleep through music playing, people talking, dogs barking... When I sleep, I sleep. So I had a hard time believing that I just woke up to the distant sound of a single squeal from a porcine beast. But it seems I did. My subconscious recognized the sound and I woke up because the only reason I would be hearing a noise like that in the first place would be because the hogs had escaped. 

And they had.

Darn that walking bacon.

When I first got the pigs, an escape attempt was met with full blown panic, stealth mode capture plans, and headaches galore. Nowadays my manner is, "Oh give me ten minutes and I'll get out there..." I know the pigs won't go far, and when I'm ready for them I simply put some food in their pen, call them back and shut the gate behind them. 

But still. I'm ready for the boys to go to freezer camp.

So May 3rd it is. A Friday spent doing one of my favorite things: turning livestock into edible protein. 

Sausage = Bacon. And he's gonna' taste so good. :) 

Escaped Pigs, Sold Cows, and Snow???

If there's not a new blog post on here, then it usually means I was too busy to write anything that day. And life's been an interesting mix of busy, and "not busy" lately, if I may be so bold as to confuse you in such a manner. I haven't been "busy" in the usual way that I am... The weather's been awful these past few days, which has kept me inside most of the day, so I've been doing a lot of reading, researching, and plotting. Always with the plotting. ;)

The pigs, Mike and Sausage, are getting HUGE now that they're nearing their 6th month of age. But they're still not *quite* big enough for me to call the butcher. Just big enough to be annoying. -_- And they're getting bored. Who knew that pigs could get cabin fever??? A few days ago, they escaped and were found gleefully running around in the pasture. I was tickled to watch them come running like faithful dogs when I called them back, and with the help of a sister, we had them back in the pen in about 5 minutes. But, not wanting any more escape adventures, I took a gloomy, wet afternoon the next day and worked on switching panels out. Up until now, they had a 3' tall welded wire, hog panel that kept them in their bounds. Er, it was supposed to keep them in anyway. Turns out that pigs can jump roughly 4' from a standing position. Hoorah. Not. So the plan was to give them a 5' tall, welded wire CATTLE panel. I think that was the hardest job I've ever done, switching those panels out...

You see, I had to switch them out while the pigs were still in the pen. The door way is only 4 feet wide, the pen itself is 10 feet in length, and the panel is 16 feet long, and heavy! So which do you do first? Take the hog panel out and then put the cattle panel in? Or put the cattle panel in and then somehow get the hog panel out, over the 5' tall wall of menacing steel? And did I mention that it was raining during all of this? And the mud outside the pen was ankle deep because of all the torrential rain we had been getting? And did I mention that the hog panel had to be dug out because 1/3 of it was buried beneath deep-pack bedding? Or that I had 300 lbs. of snorting bacon making every attempt to get out again? Oh it was fun...

But I got it done. *look of grim satisfaction*

It took me pretty close to an hour, but I finagled that cattle panel in, dug the hog panel out, and then scuttled the whole length of that filthy welded wire up and over the top of the cattle panel. Make sense? Didn't think so... I barely knew what I was doing anyway. BUT, I managed to keep BOTH pigs in during all this hullabaloo! Twice, Sausage almost got out; pill that he is... Mike was as good as ever, content to sit and watch me make a fool of myself. By the time I was done, I looked like I had been in hand to hand combat with a mud monster. My jeans were utterly filthy, boots were caked with mud, hands were scratched up from the panel edges, I had mud liberally streaked on my hands and arms, my hair was dripping wet because I had forgotten to grab a hat and it was pouring outside, and I had mud flecks on my face... I wanted a picture of myself so bad. Hehe. It was great. 

Yesterday I went out to do afternoon barn chores, and upon looking in the pig pen I saw... No pigs!?!? The cattle panel was still in place, everything looked normal, there was just a lack of pork in the premises. This farm is gonna' make me go gray before my time, let me tell you... How on earth did those pigs get out!? And more importantly, WHERE on earth did they go!?

I looked out to the pasture, but saw no sign of them. So I hollered out their dinner call, which is the ever so original, "Pig, pig! Pig, pig!" Yeah, I know; I'm so creative with my calls. ;)

Shortly after my voice died off, two torpedo shaped forms came barreling up from the creek, running through the electric fence, which was on, and sprinting towards me as though the devil himself was on their tails. I was now facing two hungry hogs coming at me at high speed and I had no idea what to do! I had no food on me, no nothing! Sausage slammed on his brakes right before hitting me, and Mike swerved around me, unable to stop immediately because of the mud. Both boys grunted and squealed in anticipation for their food, and in desperation, I tried simply opening their pen up and seeing if by some random chance they would come in without being lured. 

Strangely enough, it worked. But once they were in, Sausage decided that if he couldn't eat grain RIGHT THEN, then he would find something else to wreak havoc on. His choices were me and the cattle panel. Great. I couldn't leave the inside of the pen because he was trying to root the panel up enough for him to get out again; but meanwhile, he was also doing his best to chew on me! Thank heavens for cell phones. I called my sister and sheepishly asked her to please bring some grain for the pigs... I was a little tied up at the moment. 

I spent yet another soggy afternoon reinforcing the pig pen still more. You could put a bear in there now without worrying about it escaping. Pigs have got to be the most mentally stimulating livestock out there. Let me tell you...

Aside from the pigs, I do have the news that Peaches finally sold! I was fearing that I would never find a buyer, seeing as the market is what it is right now (nobody's buying...). I'm really, really pleased with where she's going; she'll have a good home, and will begin her milking career when she calves in December. Yep, I have to get her bred before she leaves! So I'm currently aggravating working with an AI tech to see about getting that job done around April 9th, which is when Peaches' next heat cycle is. I'm sad to see my Peach Cow (her nickname) go, but with her sale I can now begin hunting for a replacement milk cow. It's time. I've found two girls that are in my budget. One more so than the other. Both are Jerseys, which I'm not hugely keen on, but it's what I can afford right now. One is a solid brown Jersey being sold for $400; she's only milking about 2 gallons a day right now though, which is one thing that's making me hesitant on her... Mattie was only giving two gallons when I got her, and I certainly had extra milk, but I wasn't trying to raise hogs at that time either. I don't know if I can get by for a few months with only 2 gallons a day. And the stress of the move may make her drop still more. But $400 is a right good price... Really can't argue with it. I'd have money left over to buy needed things for the farm; like fencing and alfalfa hay. The other cow is a lovely brown and white patched Jersey, who just freshened in December and is milking well. Her only downside is that she's $1,200; a good price for a cow like that, but slightly out of my budget if the sellers won't come down to what I can pay (which is about $900 to $1000). So we'll see who wins out... 

As I stated at the beginning of this post, the weather has been *dreadful* lately. We went from 65 degrees and blue skies, to 37 degrees, heavy rains, high winds, and of all things, we had a dusting of SNOW this morning!!! Will wonders never cease!? I wasn't amused at the sight of snow this morning, but was thankful that it melted off by 9:30am. Let's go back to the 65F weather now, please!

Not much else going on right at the moment... Still cleaning the cow barn out, no goat kids landing yet, and I'm spending my mornings on Craigslist, hunting for milk cows. In the end, it's all good. :)

I Had An Idea

So in case you hadn't noticed by now, I dream big. You probably came to that conclusion some time ago, but I figured I should throw it out there for those who are new, or hadn't caught onto that fact yet. Hehe. Sometimes my plans work out well, sometimes I learn what not to do, and sometimes I find that an idea has to go on a backburner for awhile, even though I may not want to.

Such was the case with one idea that I've been holding close for a few months now.

Back in October, I watched a beautiful video by the Farmstead Meatsmith about cutting up a side of pork. If you haven't seen that video yet, I would highly recommend watching it (click the second highlighted part of the previous sentence). Watching Brandon do his work, in the way that he does, was absolutely inspiring to see. He takes what most people see only as a gruesome and gory task (slaughtering/butchering) into something beautiful. This guy is more than a butcher. He's an artist. And one who knows what his passion in life is.

I watched all the Farmstead Meatsmith videos that I could. I read his entire website over. This guy was quickly ranking himself among my heroes in life.

A couple weeks after watching that first video, I brought home my first pair of pigs. They were only 10 weeks old, but I already knew who I wanted to butcher them.

I had an idea. 

I wanted the Farmstead Meatsmith to come out and teach a butchering class to a group of locals, using my two hogs.

Two months ago, I contacted Brandon and his wife about my idea. Would they be willing to travel all the way down here to my neck of the woods to teach a class, and butcher a pair of Tamworth hogs? They were more than willing. They were excited by the idea and gave me some dates to choose from. It looked like April 12th and 13th were going to be our days. It was going to be a 2-day event, and folks would get to learn how to slaughter a hog, and then everyone would get to learn hands-on how to cut a side of pork up. I was so excited about it all that I was fairly giddy. Dairying may be my top interest in life, but butchery has an extremely close second-place in my heart. Something about it just feels right to me; working with raw meat, making it into edible cuts and providing high quality protein for people. 

Then disaster struck. My cow got sick and then died. Leaving me with vet bills to pay, and a sudden lack of a way to pay my butchers. I had to call the event off... I will be using a normal butcher this time, who will do the job quickly and cheaply, but it won't be the same.

All is not lost though... I told Brandon that perhaps we can resume our plan in the fall. I'll have more hogs to butcher by then, and perhaps I'll have the funds to bring the Farmstead Meatsmith down. I sure hope so. I don't give up on an idea easily, that's for certain. 

Pastured Pigs. :)

I can't remember if I've posted this video on here before or not, so I'm sharing it again if I have! Someday I want to have a setup like this lady's. Have a few breeding hogs and rotate them through pasture. Who knows; maybe someday I will. :) 

Happy Pigs

I threw a huge pile of old leaves into the pig pen this morning and "the boys" (Mike and Sausage, that is) were quite literally in hog heaven, getting to dig and root around in it all. I thought I'd share the smile with y'all by catching a video of them. :) In the background you can hear Peaches bellowing. That ornery heifer... I hate it when she makes that noise. LOL.

Using it All

I quickly learned to love the videos done by the Farmstead Meatsmith. This guy amazes me to no end with his skill and passion for his work. In today's posted episode, he goes over how to make your own blood sausage, head cheese, and pate from your own pig. Somehow I don't think that there is a huge number of readers here who will watch this, and even fewer who would enjoy the video as I enjoyed it; but to those of you who watch something like this and consider creating the food that is described by the Meatsmith, well, I could hug you for it. :)

On The Anatomy Of Thrift: Harvest Day from farmrun on Vimeo.

I have been thinking a lot lately about using the whole animal after slaughtering. At first, the very idea of blood sausage and head cheese made me grimace and want to stick to happier thoughts, such as bacon. But after awhile, my mind began to change. I have two pigs in the barn now, and they will be slaughtered in the spring. Fine Tamworths are they both, and they are a prized bacon breed. But what will I do with the other parts that aren't as highly prized as bacon? What about the blood? The offal? The head? The feet? As I care for my pair of pigs each day, feeding them, brushing them, and talking to them, I feel a weighty responsibility to do these creatures justice. If I'm going to take their lives for the sake of my stomach, shouldn't I honor that by using everything they have to offer? My conscience tells me I should.

Americans are not used to the idea of eating anything besides cuts of meat. It doesn't help matters that the word "offal" (which derived from the butcher's term of "off fall"; what "fell off" when the carcass was opened) sounds exactly like the word "awful". Oh dear. Nor does it help that we are largely disconnected from our food, and folks let's just say it like it is: the idea of eating feet, blood, or a pig head is not appealing to 99.9% of us. Hmm.

In many third world countries, the liver, heart, blood, and eyeballs were/are the most prized part of a freshly killed animal and the head of the family/tribe always got these parts. And what of the "fancy" meat cuts that we Americans know so well? Guess what; those often went to the dogs.

We're dealing with more than just our palates here, we're dealing with an entire generation that has been removed from the idea of eating more than just muscle. We no longer have mothers and grandmothers who knew how to make a nutritious meal out of a pig heart. How many of us even know what Salumi is? (and no, I'm not talking about salami here!) Granted, I still have a hard time with all this. I still draw the line at eating pickled ram's balls. Even I have my limits. But I want to make the start this next spring to do better about using the whole animal.

Next year I will try blood sausage, and maybe even head cheese. Wish me luck.

Pigs vs. Farm Girl. Who'll Win?

I think I finally have the pigs contained. I think.

Yesterday afternoon, my study work (still plowing through my herbal certification course!) was interrupted by voices shouting, "Caity! The pigs are out! The pigs are out!" I slammed my work book closed and threw it on the bed. I would have to finish studying the differences between alterative herbs, analgesic herbs, and antacid herbs later. I rocketed out of the bedroom and as I looked out the window to the front of the house I saw not only Sausage (the usual troublemaker), but Mike as well. Both calmly trotting past the house to some unknown destination. Darn it. There goes my afternoon. I grabbed a bucket of food scraps from the counter (which was supposed to be their dinner!) and enlisted the closest sibling to help me capture the porkers. I've been working with the pigs as much as I can in the pen, trying to teach them that my presence, and my "pig call" means food. Now was the test. I rattled the bucket of food and called out the oh-so-original call of "Pig, pig!" "Pig, pig!" Mike and Sausage turned around, and wonder of wonders they trotted right up to the bucket. So we made the trek back to their pen with me walking backwards muttering "pig, pig", and one of my sisters following along 10 feet behind to encourage the pigs to keep moving. 

We got back to the pen, and in in karate style I kicked the wall down to their pen so they could get back in. For you see, it's a semi-permanent wall; there's no gate. No nothing. It started out as a corrugated sheet of metal roofing and ended up as a solid wall to keep pigs in a pen. I had no idea how the pigs managed to get out of the pen, but I knew they had to get in somehow. That, and plus it's just fun every now and again to get to kick something as if you are some well trained ninja. Or maybe that's just me...

With the boys back in their designated area, I had to figure out how to KEEP them in there. After some thought, my sister and I pulled out some 4' high woven wire fencing and commenced to hammering the metal weave in the pig pen. If they got out of this then they were Houdinis. Both pigs sat on their haunches like dogs, as they watched us work with our tools. I grinned at their goofiness in between my hammering. Mike eventually got tired of the noise and buried himself beneath a pile of hay. Sausage followed suit shortly after. What a rough life these pigs have.

Having pigs is teaching me how to have a better sense of humor and that's a fact. This was something like the fourth escape I've had, and I always have to tell myself while catching them to just "relax and laugh". I try my best to find the funniness of each situation; it beats getting mad. The pigs make me smile every time I go in the pen and I am loving their quirky personalities. 

But despite the fact that I'm getting better about keeping my temper with escaped bacon, I still have my moments.

Today I was playing my Strumstick and was in the middle of sweeping through 'Alas and Did My Saviour Bleed', when another sister poked her head in the room and said the dreaded words: "Umm, Caity, your pigs are out again." I looked at her, with my right hand suspended on a downward strum and said, "You CAN'T be serious." Turns out she was serious. It still amazes me that this is the second time that the pigs have come up to the house, rather than hightailing it to anywhere else. Yesterday's sequence was repeated: One sister followed 10 feet behind (and in case you're wondering just how many sisters I have, there are 4 of them), while I carried a bucket of food scraps and calling "pig, pig". When we got back to the pig pen, I found the woven wire fencing completely mangled. The pigs apparently tore it down and then jumped over the metal wall. Alright Sausage, I'm impressed with your thinking capabilities. I had no idea what to do now. I couldn't kick the wall down again because the fencing was nailed in place still. I reached down to pick Sausage up, who was dancing at my feet, waiting for food. When my hand touched his body, the chubby little guy surprised me by lunging forward and leaping/scrambling over the metal siding and back into the pen.  Eyebrows raised, I tried it with Mike. Same thing happened. Great, I've got jumping pigs. 

This time, I truly was out of ideas on what to do. And what's more, I was borderline on being down right irate with my escape artist pigs. Can't they just stay put for crying out loud!?!?!? Is this going to become a daily happening??? Maybe suckling pig in the freezer isn't such a bad idea after all?? 

It was time. I needed a hog panel. Sixteen feet long and made of the toughest welded wire at the farm store, I figured it might keep my pigs where they belonged. I had planned on getting this panel BEFORE the pigs ever landed, but it was one of those things that just never happened. Always being put off because of its cumbersome size and the fact that we don't exactly live very close to town. But today was the day. Unless I wanted to be chasing the pigs again tomorrow, we had to do this and we had to do it TODAY. 

At the farm store I made the split second decision to buy a cattle panel instead, which is bigger, but to my dismay I found that you just can't fit a 4.5' tall cattle panel inside a 15-seater van. We tried multiple ways of squishing that fence in there, but it wasn't going. So I went back to plan A, and bought the more expensive hog panel.

When I got back home, I found that the pigs had mangled the fencing yet again, but they were still in their boundary for the moment. I stomped over with my hog panel dragging behind me and told the pigs to move out of the way. I was on a mission. No pigs allowed. 

The panel was up in less than 2 minutes and I shook my head as I wondered why on earth it took me so long to buy this thing. It's taller than the metal siding, and sturdy enough to keep even an ornery heifer at bay. Or a pig with the intelligence of a velociraptor (yes, I've been watching too much Jurassic Park lately...).

My fingers are crossed now that the panel will do the trick. I think I might finally have these pigs contained.

I think.

Thirty Seconds Flat

Sausage escaped again today.

I caught him in 30 seconds flat. 

I fixed the problem, so there will hopefully be no more episodes of this.

I was rather pleased with myself afterwards. 

I'm figuring this pig out.

A Full Day

I woke up at 7:26 this morning so as to turn my alarm off, which would start beeping at 7:30. I was already sleeping in a bit more than usual, but today I wanted to sleep in juuuuuust a wee bit more. I slept until 7:33 before bolting upright as my sub-conscience remembered that I had a doctor appointment at 9:30, and I needed 2.5 hours just to get barn chores finished and make myself presentable. Whoops. So all ideas of sleeping in were thrown out the window as I started scurrying through the beginnings of my Wednesday. Surprisingly enough, I managed to make it out the door just in the nick of time. And yes, I even managed to brush my teeth. I'm good.

Almost three months ago, I lost pretty much all hearing on my right side. I had gone swimming at the beginning of September and came home with an aching case of swimmer's ear. After a week of being a grumpy bear from the painful infection, the swimmer's ear cleared up. But before another week could pass, my hearing faded for no definable cause. We tried everything to treat it... Drops, candles, water, more drops, more candles, more water... Nothing worked. After awhile I got used to being half deaf, but I did miss being able to hear, and was I definitely getting tired of having to ask people to repeat themselves. So today was the day, I was going to the doctor and I wasn't leaving until I could hear!

Shucks, I should have done that sooner... The nurse pulled out a cattle-sized syringe which she admitted to having bought at our local Wilco, and started the oh-so-fun process of irrigating. And wonder of wonders, that did the trick. I can now hear from both sides now! It's taking some getting used to though, how loud everything seems now! Just tapping away at this keyboard has me wondering if the keys have always been this loud... Never take your hearing for granted. It's a wonderful thing.

After regaining my hearing, I had to face the next challenge of the day: Taking my permit test.

Yes, you read that right... I'm 20 years old, I run a small farm, I have an off-farm job, but for all these years I have NOT had even a driver's permit. I tried getting it last year, but failed the test and then was too busy to take it again. But I had to stop running from fear of failure; this was getting ridiculous not being able to drive myself anywhere. So I bit the bullet and did it today. During the whole drive into town (20 minutes), the doctor's appointment, town errands, and up to the very, very, very last minute at the DMV, I had my nose stuck in the driver's manual, trying desperately to finish reading through the darn thing. That book of 113 pages has been the bane of my existence for the last year and a half! I finished reading the very last page right as the lady at the desk pointed me in the direction of where I would be taking the test. Talk about "squeaking by"... After something like ten minutes of agony, I finished the test and PASSED! Whoop, whoop! I am officially a "legal" driver! So now I just have to bite the next bullet and learn to drive a vehicle that has a stick shift. [shudder] It's been five years since I've tried driving something with a stick shift, so I'm hoping that perhaps I've matured since then and will be able to do it. We'll see though. I'm a horrible when it comes to multi-tasking which is what driving anything besides an automatic vehicle seems like to me.

After coming home and helping a farm patron with her weekly goods, I headed out to do what I thought would be normal barn chores. Ha. I'm so naive sometimes.

Upon getting closer to the barn door, I could see what looked like the southern half of one of my pigs poking out from a 5-gallon bucket. Preposterous! Why on earth would my pigs be out? Why such a thing is ridiculous, right? My pigs? Escaped? Well, it turns out that it was indeed a pig that was not in its usual pen. Arms akimbo, I looked down at the grunting marauder who had not yet learned of my presence. I grabbed a hind leg on the trouble maker, intending to bear hug the fellow and put him away. Who knew that pigs could be so slippery!?!? The pig squealed and shot forward, out of my grasp and reach. And of course it just had to be Sausage that was out. The bigger, meaner of my Tamworth weaners. Mike was calmly back in his pen looking innocently smug. It was time to call upon all whatever wit and cunning I had left in me (which amounts to precious little). Now, have you ever tried to catch a 40 lb. pig? There is virtually nothing to grip on those things. Seriously. With a goat or sheep they at least have an upright neck with gives you some leverage. Pigs? Nothin'. They are fast as greased lighting, and they're a perfect torpedo shape which leaves you pretty much nothing to grab except a leg. But how are you going to get close enough to grab that leg if the oinker is going too fast!?!?  My pig books all said things like putting a bucket over the pig's head, putting them in a floorless box and then scooting them where they belonged, putting them in a gunnysack, or luring them with food. Right. Okay, we can do this Caity. I didn't have a gunnysack, so that idea was kaput. Luring him with food? Nope, he wasn't hungry after all the time he had just spent snacking in the barn.  Putting him in a box? Turns out that the ONE box that was big enough was so soggy and damp that Sauasage was able to literally burst right through it. Put a bucket over his head? Are you kidding me? I felt like a cutting horse facing a steer trying to put a bucket over his head. Either that or a hockey player with a grudge. 

That was it. There was only one thing left to do, but I didn't know what that one thing was. So I set out to do it. Yes, I'm genius. I thrust, he dodges, I throw in a parry, and he retaliates with a lunge. This isn't a chase, it's a fencing match of brain power between species. he ducks behind the 2-ton stack of hay and I clamber over it. He wheels into a corner and I just barely miss him. He met his waterloo though in the milking parlor. I had him cornered there. During this whole adventure, Peaches the heifer was bawling her head off for some reason or another. Her moo is fairly tolerable, but when she bawls it makes my skin crawl. Ugh. Feeling downright feral I crouch and lunge as the little porker passes by me. HA! I got you by the hind leg you uncultured swine! Sausage retaliated by jackknifing around with a fierce growl and trying to slice my arm open with his needle-like teeth. The only available option I had at that point was to quickly scurry to the opposite side of him and grab his other leg. Great. Now I've got this pig in wheelbarrow fashion. What now? 

So for the record, while putting a bucket over a pigs head might not work, nor might putting him a box do much good, trundling him around like what kids do in wheelbarrow relay races works *perfectly*. I had my pig, and I sure wasn't about to let go of him, so I applied forward pressure to that haunch of ham and smiled for a quick moment he began moving. After a few more moments, I figured out how to steer my vagabond pig and away we went. The merriment only lasted until we got to the door when Sausage decided that he'd had enough and began to squeal hideously. Ever heard a pig scream? Mothers, your toddler throwing a tantrum doesn't even come close to the pitch of an upset pig. Word of honor on that. But continue to trundle we did, meanwhile I pondered just what it would take before the neighbors called Animal Control on me. Peaches was still bellowing. Chickens were in my way. I was wearing a skirt. Could this get any funnier? I got Sausage over to the pen and with a supernatural heave-ho, I scooped him up and tossed him just barely over the top edge of the pen wall. With the pig screaming and writhing the whole time. All the work at the veggie farm is giving me some really nice upper arm muscles and a strong back, let me tell ya'. Comes in handy when you're trying to toss a pig who doesn't want to be tossed.

After putting Sausage back where he belonged and fixing the pen up, I was hot. And Mad. Peaches was still bawling so I made the split second decision that if she was going to bawl, then she had better have a legitimate reason for doing so. I shooed her into the barn, haltered her, and began the process of halter breaking her. My goat mentor who is also a vet tech, 4-H leader, and retired dairy cow owner, gave me some advice on breaking my mischievous heifer, so I decided that I might as well do the work today. The method? This may seem slightly harsh to some, but I think to those of you who really know large livestock, this is pretty tame. Dear Peachy abhors being haltered, and absolutely does not lead. That's not a good thing when she already weighs 700 lbs. and is still growing like a weed. After getting the halter on Peaches, she was tied to a support beam in the barn. The rope had to be long enough that she could lay down comfortably, but short enough that she wouldn't get tangled. It's a fine line. I asked my goat mentor how long she should stay tied and her advice was four hours. Every twenty minutes you have to check on them, brush them down, work with their feet, and towards the end you try leading them around. As I suspected, Peaches threw a conniption about the whole thing for the first hour and a half. I stayed outside with her for the first hour, making sure that she didn't do something foolish, and teaching Mattie that Peaches was off limits for awhile. After two hours, Peaches figured out that by standing close to the beam, there would be no pressure on her face. After three hours she was chewing cud. By four hours I was able to lead her around. Tomorrow will be the test to see if Peaches remembers her lesson or not. I'm really hoping that this works... 

When all the animals were fed, watered, captured, or trained, my afternoon was plumb gone and I needed to start dinner. We were going to have a simple dish of chicken with some biscuits, but then I decided to throw a bit of pizzazz on what would have otherwise been a rather plain meal. I just finished reading Joshua and Jessica Applestone's book titled, 'The Butcher's Guide To Well-Raised Meats'  and their "secret" chicken rub blend sounded way too tempting to not try tonight. I did leave out the cayenne pepper on my first try since not everyone in the family likes that spice as much as I do. But even without the cayenne, the chicken turned out amazing. Good gracious me, why did it take me so long to find that recipe??? The biscuits were also livened up when a sister decided to add cheese and garlic powder to them. Ha, okay I don't even want to know what my weight is now that dinner is over. But it was worth it. ;) I love food. Growing it, tending it, harvesting it, preparing it, and then eating it; it's all good.

So now I'm tuckered. It's been a full day, and my clock says I need to go milk the cow now. A farmer's work is never done...

Mike and Sausage

The pigs have landed. 

Please meet Mike and Sausage, the Tamworth pigs.

It hasn't even been 48 hours with these pigs and already I've learned what heart-stopping fun these guys can be. Getting them unloaded from our truck and into their pen turned into a rousing adventure when Sausage escaped and was soon followed by Mike. We humans had a wild chase on our hands! I thought I was going to lose my pigs; oh it was bad... Quick! They're headed for the road! No, run the other way! Dive, dive! Watch his teeth!! After much frustration, we finally figured out how to not only out-wit a pig, but how to best handle one. I learn something new every day.

But once the "boys" were settled in their new digs, life calmed down. Mike is a sweet tempered, although cautious, fellow. Sausage is a firebrand who knows how to use his wicked sharp teeth. When it was first announced that I was getting pigs, my three year old and five year old brothers pleaded for the privilege of naming the two porkers. I was fine with that and grinned at their name choices. Although the three year old is thinking that he would rather change Sausage's name to Ice Cream. We're still debating that.

This morning I peeked into the pig pen and saw no trace of my pigs. Poof. Gone. As though they had sprouted wings and flown away, there was no clue of their whereabouts. Unless you knew what to look for... I stared hard at a far corner of the pen, where the hay was piled two feet high. If you looked very, very closely you could see the hay gently rising and falling. Pulling the hay back, I saw the two chubby bodies of snoring pigs. When they wake up, they smack their lips and stretch like cats, before they start wagging their tails and looking for food. It makes me smile just thinking about it. :)

I got a quick video of the boys this afternoon, enjoying the afternoon sunshine in their pen. These boys are fun, let me tell you. I like pigs.

Postponed Porkers

I was supposed to go pick up my two Tamworth weaner pigs today, but the plan has changed a bit and the porkers will now be landing at GSF on Tuesday the 20th. I'm a wee bit dissapointed that I won't be bunking down any curly-tailed oinkers tonight, but I really did need the extra time... I'm not *quite* ready for them yet.