How *not* to Wrangle Hogs

First off this morning...the butter canning. Yes, it would definitely be real butter only and not the margarine substitute stuff out there (Country Crock, Imperial, Blue Bonnet, etc.). As to salted or non, I don't think that makes a difference at all.

My blog entry area here is all whacked out this morning for some reasons. The joys of rural country Internet I guess. I had photo's to share of all sorts of things, but I have no buttons whatsoever along the top here with which to add anything.

Maybe later today I can come back and put them in. For now, the story behind the subject line :o)

Our pigs are most obviously not bred. If they had, um, shall we say, 'met up with' the big strapping male on site the day we bought them, they would have had babies last week. As there are no babies in my barn, its time to butcher these beasts and be done with them. And no more pigs for this homestead. Well, not until we are much better prepared for them...with a concrete room or something.

These ladies have been a thorn in our side since we got them. Didn't want to load at all, wreaked havoc from day one here, played tug-o-war with some of my wayward hens, destroyed every feed bin, water trough, you name it...

...and then Sunday evening, they tore out of our fence. No idea what was on their minds, they were just suddenly in the yard and not the barn. Emily saw them first, calling them 'piggie dogs'. Yes, we will enlighten and correct her on that :o) Knowing that these ladies are just plain evil nasty creatures with a taste for blood, every child outside scattered like the wind. Jennifer loaded the 22 and off she went, I got with Dewey -- poor man, sitting in Arkansas, listening to what sounds like some frantic 911 call or something from us -- and found out for sure how to load that SKS. All I could see was dogs being chased and children bobbing about. I knew we weren't a good enough shot to do much more than irritate the ladies with a 22, although I'm assured now we could have handled them with it well enough.

Dewey called a couple friends from church and they headed over to help us...either load the pigs back into the barn somehow or shoot em where they were. Didn't make a difference to me either way. Here we were, guns loaded, moving around the barn with frantic dogs, frantic hogs and spooked children...5:30 on a Sunday night, dark enough to not be able to see diddly out behind the barn and off into the acreage at all, and do you think we had a flashlight? Of course not. A half a dozen DeWalt and Black & Decker batteries sitting here yet not one had been charged! The one light we found was about as promising as simply holding matches out there.

Yes, we had some rather stern and serious discussions about why those batteries need to be charged and ready at all times now.

We ran those stupid hogs everywhere. One minute they are running after one of the children who are screaming looking for shelter, the next, the hogs are chasing after the dogs trying to bite them. The dogs were trying to keep them wrangled near the barn at least...seems they aren't quite as useless and stupid as I thought. Our friends finally arrive and I'll be slapped silly if those blasted hogs didn't stand still and find contentment in eating the 5 gallon pail of corn we had been trying to entice them with the whole time. Between the two men, they shooed and sue-y'ed those ladies right back to the barn and rigged up their fence again. Just slick as could be.

Here we had a comedy of errors running amok on the homestead and they show up, seasoned farm wranglers, and it all proceed smooth as frog hair.

Yes, the wild "amish woman with the military rifle" was probably the topic of quite some discussion up at Dry Creek Monday. The old timers all sit around up there at the hole in the wall 2-pump gas station and grocery store. It's very Ike Godsey's General Merchandise up there on the mountain. When I passed to go to the feed store and get more corn, it was packed with 4-wheelers and trucks. I thought about stopping and getting something to drink, but I figured they could have a better conversation without the wild amish woman.

I suppose some prayer requests were sent up for us at church as well that night. City folk in the country and all that. LOL...yes, I imagine we will be talked about for a good week after all our escapades here. Guess that's part of living in the county like this. Everybody knows everything, and they all have their opinions as to why this or that happens to the outsiders :o)