There are certain people that come into our lives and we're never the same again. 

They become part of our identities, attached by invisible threads to our very souls. 

We may not see them every day, or maybe even every year, but when we do, we pick up right where we left off without skipping a beat. 

It's in the catching up, the fitting together of all the missing pieces of our lives that have gone between, that we suddenly realize the big gap that was left the last time we said good-bye. 

And so we work hard at filling up the gap with as many happy memories as possible, so that when the next good-bye comes, as it always does, since nothing in this world is permanent, perhaps the gap won't seem so big. 

We put on a brave and happy face and tell them, "We'll see you when we see you and not a moment before!" while hoping it will be sooner than later, and wishing there was a way to make the time apart go faster.

Ever have one of those moments where everything seems right in the world?

Not that everything is done on your "to-do" list, because it never is.

But there are no critters loose or injured or sick. The day is sunny but cool enough to work comfortably. 

There are no bugs. The pastures are green and growing, And you are getting sh*t done.

You look around, and all the creatures seem content, and everything seems ok.

You have this moment of peace and calm.

You sit or stand and look around, amazed and grateful.

Of course all hell breaks loose soon after.

Something is sick or injured or dying or loose (or all 4), or mother nature is wreaking havoc.

And once again you question why you do what you do, and if it was your fault that something went wrong.

But for that one brief moment in time, everything was right.

Or mostly anyway.

And you try to hold onto that moment. So that when the bad days happen, as they always do, if you're very, very lucky, those moments, and your friends and family, will prop you up, until the good moments overshadow the bad ones again.

Cheers - 

One of the biggest influences on my decision to farm, and how to do it, came from Joel Salatin's books.

Among his practical tips and words of wisdom came these words:

"Our motto is we respect and honour the pigness of the pig and the chickenness of the chicken. That means not confining them in a house with hundreds of others."

Allowing an animal to express its natural behaviors, such as the scratching and pecking of chickens, or the rooting and tilling of pigs, becomes an essential part of giving that animal the best environment in which to live, and therefore, the best possible life.

On our "little farm," that is exactly what all of our critters get to do.

For many years now we've talked about getting pigs. We enjoyed watching the pigs at our friend's farm and always figured we'd try it ourselves.

One year turned into five, and I finally decided it was time. A few e-mail inquiries later and we were rushing to put together a pig shelter (thank you old pallets!) in our old garden space, which, due to my current schedule of working full-time off of the farm, is lying dormant.

The perfect pig palace!

Now "Roto" and "Tiller" spend their days happily rooting and tilling up the old garden, happy as pigs in, well, mud.

If that isn't the pigness of the pig, I don't know what is.

Cheers -