I have been reading blog posts about how other gals hate it when their husbands go out of town. And I can honestly say, none of them had to deal with this:
Sorry about the quality of the photo.
Yes those are pigs.
And yes. That is my kitchen floor. (was my kitchen floor-we remodeled)
And those blue things…slippers.
It never fails. When he leaves, there is a disaster.
We used to raise registered Hampshire Show Pigs. At any given time we might have over a hundred pigs. That is a lot of
bacon in the freezer, uh, pigs in the barn. It was a fun hobby. But, when my husband was away, it was a job. A big job. You see, I was not born and raised in the country with farm animals.
It is a learned behavior for me.
This particular time, we had a barn full of momma sows ready to have babies. A lot of babies.
He says, don’t worry, I’ll be home before anything happens. But, you should check them each evening, just in case. Oh boy.
And, of course, one momma couldn’t wait. I will spare you the gory details.
I had to bring theses babies to the house and try to bottle feed them until another momma had her babies.
Did you know piglets wake up to nurse every forty five minutes?
That made for a verrrryyyy long night. Finally, around 4:30 a.m., I went back to the barn, in my robe and mud boots-not a pretty sight I promise you. Thankfully, another momma was laying down nursing ten babies. I ran back to the house and gathered my babies in a laundry basket, and slipped them in on the new mamma. She already had ten piglets sucking on her, what’s a few more gonna hurt?
It all worked out perfectly. And my little kitchen friends went on to be fantastic show pigs for their new owners in Kansas, Oklahoma, and Texas.
There were other disasters, on his other trips.
Pigs on my porch. Pigs in my garden. Pigs everywhere they were not supposed to be.
Just a normal day
at the office at the ranch.