It All Washes Off

I don't think there is anything quite so sanctifying to a marriage as chasing pigs together. A dozen or more swine, a great big muddy pigpen with two huts to circle around a few times, a stick in each of your hands and a big hole in your barn boots: what could be better?

For several years we have been raising pigs over the summer to supplement our freezer and the freezers of a few friends. There isn't much that beats homegrown, juicy pork chops or all that good pork sausage and bacon, unless of course it's your own homegrown, pasture raised T-bone steaks ... Mmm-mmm!

We were able to get quite a deal on some young feeder pigs earlier this spring, but it meant driving two-and-a-half hours one way and buying sixteen of them, which was a few more than we needed. But, being the frugal farmers that we are with the hopes that this year {it has to be this year!} the farm will come ahead, we jumped in with both feet and brought home a truck full of porkers. After raising them for a few weeks we put adds in the local paper and on good ol' Craigslist and soon were fielding e-mails and phone calls and hoping so-and-so farmer would actually show up this time with enough cash in their hands.

Somehow I escaped the major part of the chase for the first prospective buyers, but I was hanging around too close to the barnyard during the nice weekend weather and was caught wearing mud boots which meant I was the perfect partner to waltz around the pig pen a few times. Very rarely do I ever hear Rob come close to uttering profanities, but his lips came pretty close to quivering some choice words on Saturday evening - probably more so at his other half who had some choice words of her own before it was all said and done.

We finally sorted out the four pigs that were asked for on the phone only to have the young gentleman show up and ask if he could take five. Yep, we're not turning down farm sales. Luckily, he brought two friends to help with the chase. I was wise and hid in the barn.

Just as we got in the house to sit down to a hot supper and began wondering what we would do with one lone pig for sale, lo-and-behold there was an email wondering if we would want to trade a pig for a Nubian buck. I'm always in the market for a new buck, even when there are four others in the barn, so out we went again to sort out that one last spotted porker. A very happy farm wife went home later that night with a smelly pig oinking in the hatchback of her minivan.

Later, Rob came to kiss me good night, but hesitated, which is very unusual for him. "Umm, honey," he said, "have you looked in the mirror yet?"

"It's okay honey, it all washes off," I told him.