Well this IS what it's all about in the end........

I spent THE most fascinating afternoon at the Barton Farmshop in Woolsery, watching Robbie cut up my pigs. And what a bloody nice bunch of blokes (and you too Sandra) they are in there. Some of you might be a bit squeamish about the picture, but this what it all boils down to. The three pigs all weighed in at quite different weights, the gilt came in at 63kgs, the middle boar, 73kgs and my favourite (if I permitted myself a favourite), the big black one, a stonking 77kgs.

Distribution of the cut meat was erm... interesting. My folks collected a half pig, a Teacher at school another, our dear friends Lord and Lady Ansell drove up from Hampshire for one (with a car laden with beer, champagne, chocolate, flowers, haribos and cake........you naughty people) and Mike and I drove out onto Dartmoor on sunday morning (me, very much still under the affluence of incahol methinks...) to deliver the final half pig. In what Mike remarked looked like a scene out of "The League of Gentlemen", twenty or so chunks of bloody, raw meat were transferred from the boot of my car, into bin liners before being smuggled into the boot of (what for me was) a complete stranger's 4x4, in the car park of a pub shaped like Old Mother Hubbards Boot!!!!

Mike.... I feel awful! You know, we had a fridge full of cheese to finish off Dinner with, and enough eggs, bacon, sausages, home made bread etc to give you a breakfast to remember...... instead, and I don't know how it happened, someone got those damned dowsing rods out....... and then there was that trip out on to the Moor.......... I'm so sorry you missed breakfast.

The remaining pork was used for the repayment of favours and the balance is now tucked away in my freezer...... apart from that whole belly that is curing in my fridge as we speak.... soon to be the most satisfying bacon sandwich I'VE ever had anyway.

To all those of you who've helped me out I say a huge THANK YOU, to those that bought my pork, I say ENJOY and despite the sleepless nights, the (lets face it) trauma, the mud, the hard work, the straw in the back of Sal's clean car, the nightmare of ear tagging ......... I'll be back, sometime next spring and I'm already looking forward to it.

They're gone......

Blimey! What a week of mixed emotions..... First of all there was the ear tagging incident (I noticed one of them had fallen out before they went off), and then there was Monday morning......

My good friend Geoffrey (a Devon lad, bought up on a farm, former slaughterman, butcher etc etc) borrowed a trailer on my behalf, and rocked up at my place at 6.00am. I had prepared a "run" for the pigs, made from electric fencing, which ran from the field, down the garden and out onto the footpath where the trailer was to be drawn up. I also reduced the size of the field on sunday, so they had nowhere to run when I needed to round them up. (I've read tales of people chasing them round the field covered in pig muck & mud and really didn't want to do the same). Anyway, after several VERY sleepless nights (and, I'll confess, having been utterly foul to live with for a couple of days), the time came.

The stoopid buggers had somehow or other contrived to get the wrong side of the fence overnight and then couldn't find a way back, so they slept outdoors on their last night!! Boy, did THAT make me feel good. Anyway, It took a lot of coaxing to get them out of the field and I guess, about 40 minutes to eventually get them onto the trailer (apples did it in the end). It was then off to Smales in Hatherleigh. When we arrived, Geoffrey very deftly reversed into their yard. They were comfy now and took some "encouragement" to offload them. I can't even contemplate the thought they sensed what was coming, rather that they were just being stubborn.

By the time I'd been into the office to do the paperwork, they had probably been "done". Geoff said it was best I didn't watch, and frankly, I'm kind of glad I didn't. It was all over and I was overcome with a cloud of sadness.

We returned home, cleaned out the trailer, I dismantled the electric fence and stared out on my empty field. It was all so sad.


I kind of got over the sadness by tuesday and on wednesday I had to go back to pick up the carcasses. Once I saw them, and that beautiful layer of fat, any feelings of sadness turned to pride. They killed out at between 63 and 73kgs and now I can't wait to try my lovely home grown pork....

Today (thursday) I'm off to Barton Farmshop in Woolsery, where Robbie (a top geezer) is going to cut them up for me. I have buyers for four halves already, one half for me, and the remainder will be used up as "thankyou's" or sold off as individual pieces.

I have to say, it's all been a bit of an adventure, one that I have so enjoyed, one that has kept me awake more than I would have cared for, but one that I will certainly be repeating. (I'd do it again tomorrow if I had the land). So, watch this space and I'll let you know what it tastes like.....