Today was a big day over here – we were setting up the new pig pen (repurposing old skids and logs) under the apple trees, picking up the lovely ladies from their birth place at Aartje’s (in Dalkeith) and helping them settle into (read: reinforcing) their new home. Kamé was very saddened that these Tamworth gilts are not pink (one of her favourite colours of late) and none too impressed with their general odor and the swarm of flies that joined them into the car for the hour + drive home. We took my brother’s advice and hauled the piglets (now weighing a sturdy 50 pounds a piece) into a large tupperware bin – aside from them getting awfully hot, it worked out well. Since pigs are notoriously curious, we are anxious to see how long it takes them to start lifting up the walls of their little fort. Judging by the amount of turf they have already turned, they’ll be moving to till the fallow parts of the garden very very soon.

And for their names…to name or not to name a future meal? I’ve always been a big fan of names – we’d have to have a lot of children to use up all the names on my baby lists….our next 6 or so are ready to go with middle names to boot – I jest, but only a little. Therefore, Delila (who loves beets) and Babette (homage to Babe, with a feminine and francophone twist) are the newest additions to the farm. Now begins the campaign for the milking cow…

farm, garden