Three Little Pigs And Some Honest Scrap

Three Little "Pigs." MmmHmmm. That's right. Quotation marks around "pigs." You can't really tell from the picture, but these are really nice pigs with firm J Lo rumps. They arrived the other night, the first of our new pig collection for Summer.

But these pigs are different from any of the other pigs we've ever had at our place. They're like tame or something.

Now I like to think that our pig accommodations are pretty nice as far as pig accommodations go. They can run in and out of the barn to stay cool or warm. Inside they have their self-feeder full of feed at all times and a soft pile of straw to sleep in. Outside they have a large run with foliage to chew on or play with, running water and, most importantly, mud. I provide watermelon rinds or leftover corn on the cob. They get lumps of coal to crunch on. So obviously it's pretty fun out there.

But these new pigs have no idea what's goin' on. When I went out to check on them last night I had a bad feeling they'd stayed holed up in the barn all day. As in, hadn't had a drop of water all day.

I knew that Mark had dragged them all down to the creek, one by one, a day or two before because they hadn't gone themselves, but we'd assumed they had it figured out after that.

So acting on my hunch, I took a pan with a little water in it and showed it to the hogs. Yep. I'd say they were thirsty. Then doing my patented animal baby talk voice I sweet talked them as I inched the pan all the way down to the creek.

They drank, but they were sort of grossed out by the mud. And scared of the weeds. And trembling because of the sounds of vehicles driving by on the road. I was trying to engage them in pig-like activities to make them more comfortable. I showed them that the weeds and grass won't hurt them, I petted and scratched them, but they just wanted to go back into the barn. My pigs are Edgar Linton. In a milksop, pantywaist kind of way. Like I said, they're beautiful and were obviously well cared for before they arrived at our place, but how ever they were raised has left them clueless as to how to be a real pig. And that's a shame because real pigs have a lot of personality. I sure hope these pigs come around. Find themselves. Maybe they could talk to someone about their feelings. Work through their fears.

Anyhoot. One of my favoritest bloggers has tagged me. I'm not sure I've never properly completed a tagging/meme assignment, but we'll see how it goes. It's called Honest Scrap and you will never be the same. Especially the part where you never get back the two minutes of your life that you spent reading this.

1. I've helped castrate pigs. When we had breeding hogs and raised our own litters, part of the deal was de-nutting the males once they reached a certain age. My job was to restrain the piglet while Mark sliced, diced, and then sprayed the area with Blu-Kote antiseptic.

2. I've never had braces on my teeth. But I wanted them. I used to wrap my teeth in tin foil in an attempt to mimic the 'cool' teenage look of braces. Lucky for me I didn't have to fake all the teenage acne. I was blessed with plenty of that.

3. I have never liked Bruce Springsteen's music. I have pretty much always hated it. Except for that one song about a train or something? It's passable. With a push.

4. I didn't use any pain medication for labor for all 3 children. Ya, I know that's on a Facebook meme somewhere, but can you just let me brag on it a little more? Actually, I was totally wimping out towards the end of number 3 and asked for it but they said it was too late.

5. I've never gone to college. And I still don't want to go yet. I did well in school and love to learn & read but I just don't have the desire to go. Or the time or money. Sometimes I feel bad about it, but mostly not. Yet. I definitely want my children to go. If they want to. Which they seem to do. Want to go. Maybe I should've at least gone to an English class or something. Sheesh.

6. I've met Mark Farner of Grand Funk Railroad. He performed his contemporary Christian music at a crazy church I went to in Texas. That's all I have to say about that.

7. I have a very lumpy skull. I am like a phrenologist's Encyclopedia Britannica. (or maybe Wikipedia would be more appropriate.) It would take forever to read my head. (and half of it would be ridiculous "facts" I made up on the spot.) Plus for the past few years or so I've been growing a rogue bony lump so it's extra freakish. Keep an eye out for me in the Guinness Book of Records.

8. I make my own sauer kraut. Usually in 20 to 30 gallon batches, too. Not by myself of course. It's a family affair and boy is it good.

9. I want to be cremated. Mark does too. But I asked him if I could have his ashes pressed into a cubic zirconia. That's classy right?

10. I have brown eyes. I have nothing even slightly clever to say about that. It's just a boring statement of fact. I figure it takes some pressure of the next person doing the assignment.

So go on with your bad selves and get to listin'. Make it from scrap.

And this is the part where I mess up the assignment because I can't bring myself to call people out. (What if they've already done this one? What if they hate doing memes? What if I forget someone? Except Emmy. You are officially tagged. Because you are family and I for sure know you hate memes.) So if you make a list after reading this I hope you'll post your link in the comments so I can check you out.