Ohiofarmgirl's Adventures in The Good Land is largely a fish out of water tale about how I eventually found my footing on a small farm in an Amish town. We are a mostly organic, somewhat self sufficient, sustainable farm in Ohio. There's action and adventure and I'll always tell you the truth about farming.

Friday, January 30, 2015

What REALLY happened to those pig headz....

You may remember that there was some question about what happened to the pig headz when we had our last butcher day. There was, in fact, a scandal. I had been sworn to secrecy but let's face it. We are all stuck in the house and the snow madness has given me fits. I can't keep this secret anymore so I'm blowing the story wide open. Get yourself a drink and read on....


It is a fact that my husband lives only to torment me. There is proof in that pudding. His new thing is to throw icky stuff into the pond. His big idea is to feed all our gross stuff (from butchering) to the catfish. He does it just to get my goat. Seriously. It is a fact that I am terrified to the stupid catfish. Oh sure maybe you love them, love to fish for them, fry them up in a pan, or heaven forbid... to engage in "noodling." But I don't. I wont even let them in the house.

My terror is such that I honestly don't even even know if there really are catfish in the pond. For all I know this is just some kind of lie he concocted to keep me away from the pond so he can have some peace and quiet well away from my ever growing list of farm chores. But it worked. I won't go down to the pond now.

From time to time he goes down to the pond to "check on the catfish" but I really don't know what he's doing because I won't go anywhere near the it. At nite I lay awake wondering if those horrible catfish with their wiggly whiskers and horrible gaping mouths are walking their way up the hill to kill me in my sleep. Catfish. The horror is real.


The other day one of my husband's appointed farm chores was go and get rid of those damn pig headz. They had been frozen solid in the garage. I instructed him to double bag those big ol' pig headz and put them out with the garbage. This is how it went:

He: We can't throw them in the garbage - they are too heavy. I know! I'll throw them in the pond!
Me: No. The pond is frozen.
He: They are so heavy they will break thru the ice....
Me: No. That is stupid and it wont work.
He: It will TOTALLY work!

Then he ran off toward the pond carrying the pig headz, one in each hand, yelling "YIPEEEE!"

I went and got my camera and the dog.

From the safety of the porch I could see him hurl the first frozen head with all his cave troll like strength. It sailed valiantly thru the air and landed with a thud and a wwwwooooowwwwwnnnnnnng noise...and then skidded way out in the middle of the entirely frozen pond.

I visibly saw him exhale, thinking "This couldn't POSSIBLY be happening."

So in a fit of brilliance he takes the OTHER totally frozen head.. and chucks that one too. A thud, a reverberating noise, skidding.

He actually scratched his head as he watched the second pig head come to rest in the middle of the frozen pond. It was like watching some kind of horrible game of curling. Both headz sat out there mocking him. I knew that he would never let this go. He's a determined fellow.

So then me and the dogs took up comfortable positions and watched him hurl a variety of heavy objects onto the pond - he threw each one more hopeful than the last that it would break thru the ice thereby sinking the horrible pig headz into the deep.


After a while I started shouting helpful and supportive comments to him such as:




Eventually he lumbered up the hill in utter defeat.

"Now what, smart guy?" I asked helpfully. He had no immediate reply other than to look at me for support which he did not receive. I gave up being a right fighter a while ago but all of that came flooding back as I smirked at my dear husband's failure. No one was more right than me about the pond being too frozen for pig headz.

As it was, we did not think we could just leave them out there...but neither of us was going to walk out on that frozen pond. No way. We needed some kind of solution to either get them off the pond or break the ice so the pig headz would sink to their utter doom as catfish food.

We bandied around a variety of ideas for a while including:

1. Using a cannon to break the ice.
2. Cutting down one of the pond-side trees so that it would fall on the pond thusly breaking the ice.
3. Him shootin' at the pig headz until they skittered across to the other side.
4. Hooking Dog#1 up in Zander's harness, tying a rope to him, and having him "get it."

Eventually we settled on a grappling hook. I made popcorn for me and the dogs. We watched as time and time again my poor husband threw that hook out onto the frozen pond and narrowly missed pulling the pig heads to safety.

He: (huffs)

You should bear in mind that this was one of the coldest days this entire winter. I went in the house after awhile because it was too cold to stand out there. Zander and Kai lasted longer than I did but soon after woofed for me to let them in.

Eventually my husband gave up and came inside. To be more precise, I wouldn't let him in the house until he told me I was right. He choked the words out. I made him lunch. It was serve cold. Like his defeat.

The working theory became that a raccoon or whatnot would march itself out there and pull the pig headz to the side of the pond. Then my husband could safely go and get the pig headz... and throw them in the trash like I told asked him.

It turns out that you just can't get good help in the form of varmints these days. No hardworking raccoon showed up. The pig headz sat out there day after day, their lifeless eyes staring blankly at the sky... waiting for the eventual spring thaw.

Pretty much every day I went down to the fenceline and looked to see if the pig headz were still there. They were. Every day I gave my husband a report on their status to which he would reply by huffing and lumbering off.

Eventually the pond finally thawed out enough and the pig headz did in fact sink to their doom as catfish food.

And that is what really happened to those pig headz. I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried. Seriously.

Happy Friday everyone! Whatcha got on your frozen pond?


Anonymous said...

One word...
Genius :)

Unknown said...

I have tears, seriously, from the laughter. You are a freaking riot...thanks so much for starting my day off with such fun!!

David said...

THAT, my friend is some funny scat. Happy Friday!

Unknown said...

I would not give up the joy of reading your blog for anything... Bravo!

Weekend Cowgirl said...

We never ever have a frozen pond so his plan would have worked beautifully here!!!!!!! He would be a happy camper!!

langela said...

Very funny! My husband is never wrong and it frustrates me to no end. I would revel in my rightness, too, if this happened at our farm. Unfortunately, we have no pig heads and I will probably never be right about anything.

Way to go!

Vera said...

I read this out to my husband, both of us laughing fit to bust because we have first hand experience as well of having to find a 'permanent home' for what is left of the animal carcasses after butchering...... you wrote this very well, and I still have the picture in my head of those two heads!

buddeshepherd said...

If you would have dropped a piano it would have solved the problem. Or the cannon idea.

Unknown said...

Great Sat morning entertainment as we have our morning coffee. Thanks for the laugh.

Vintage Maison said...

My next door neighbour, a Frenchman, asked me if I could make some brawn. Yes! Of course I can, I replied, little knowing that my dear OH hadn't actually burnt off the facial hairs from the pigs head. When I was finally given the head to boil up, I enthusiastically put it in the pot .I boiled it up with herbs - but no garlic as per instructions from next door neighbour - and waited for the lot to set after it cooled. Then, I realised that the whole head was covered in bristles. Tons of them! Bristles coming out of every square inch of that damn pig's head. So, I set about with my finest eyebrow tweezers, and for the next two hours, plucked that pigs head until it was a shining, bald example of porcine perfection! I then presented my neighbour with the brawn, and he declared it delicious. Which is more than my family said. Our portion ended up in the dog's bowl.

buddeshepherd said...

Have you considered putting them on pikes outside your farm to frighten off marauders? You could add to this with drunken parties, ritual boasting, and archaic athletic competitions which involve nudity. It would greatly improve your status in the local agricultural community. Trust me, I'm a real farmer!

Cat Eye Cottage said...

Holy Moly! You are SO entertaining!

Anonymous said...

loved it !

I get a real kick out of your stories ! You remind me of Erma Bombeck. I hope to gosh that you don't swim in that pond !

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