"Get a small farm," they said. "Enjoy nature, live the quiet life," they said. "Raise some veggies, raise some animals, eat healthy foods," they said.
Tonight John and I got a surprise date night. We found ourselves alone at the County Fair, between the Wether, Fur and Feather Auction and picking up Minah, who worked at one of the ticket gates. Mary and Ryan were wandering the Fair.
"Hey," I said, "We could go to dinner. Alone." Off we went.
We found a new smokehouse in Woodstock, and settled in for a half slab. The food, sadly, was just OK. Cool ribs, and I don't mean that as a slang adjective, meh beans, and cole slaw with too much mustard.
And then the yucky part happened.
My phone rang.
Keri said, "Melody! The f----in' pigs are out!"
She's quite the practical joker, so I said, "You. Had. Better. Be. Joking. Tell me right now if this is a joke."
"NO!" she hollered into the phone. "They're up by the f----in' road!" Then she started sobbing.
What else could I do? I said, "We'll be right home."
We slurped up the barbecue sauce, slugged one more gulp of beer (I left 1/4 of a Blue Moon on the table.) We headed home.
Since Mary and Ryan had beat us home, the three of them had one pig safely in the pasture just as we got there. I ran through the breezeway, changing my sandals for muck boots as I did. I came out the back door to see the one thing you DON'T want to see; a pig, lying on her side, bright pink in color, panting furiously. (Pigs shouldn't be pink, despite what the cute little buggers in cartoons look like. Pink means they're flushed from stress.) I grabbed a bucket of water while the guys grabbed fence panels. We splashed some water on her, led her a bit to the bucket, splashed some more water, led her a little more...After about a half hour, we were able to get her near the barn, using those panels to herd her. Since it was dusk and almost bedtime, she moseyed into the barn, still panting. We shut the door.
-whew- Two pigs caught. One was in the pasture, though, not in the pen.
We herded her out of the pasture, through the gate and into their pen, which sounds a lot easier than it was. It took another 20 minutes or so.
When we came in, they were both in their pen with all gates closed. Seems I left one important door open and caused all the ruckus. But things seem to have turned out OK.
Except that Ryan sprained/strained his thumb. And the pigs were down, huffing, when I left them to come inside. Hopefully, they'll lie there on the cool earth for the night and be fine in the morning.
And I'll finish this Fat Tire and have myself a good sleep!