Two and a half weeks ago (to be precise), Mrs B. went into labour on a cold and breezy April afternoon. In all the years we’ve been breeding our pigs, this is only the second time that Mrs B. has birthed out during the daylight hours. We were grateful for this miraculous eventuality, but it didn’t detract from the fact that it was a very, very cold evening for sitting inside an unheated barn. Despite our familiarity with the pig…
It’s a deal, it’s a steal…it’s the Sale of the fucking Century! A whole side of pork for how much? That’s bloody amazing, I’d like to buy ten. No, shit, make it a round twenty and I’ll throw a party in your name. That’s pretty much the reaction I want when offering our pork, chicken, eggs and honey for sale. And if you’re lucky enough to be invited to buy some, then I expect you to be forever grateful to…
It’s been a crazy busy month. Spring hit early and after a rather feeble attempt to finish the painting in February which, to be honest, I enjoyed about as much as being made to watch back to back episodes of Inside The Actors Studio (sycophantic nauseating drivel) while having my toenails filed with an angle grinder, March and April have been all about the farm. I feel justified in calling it a farm now since we have done some irrefutably farmy…