I felt compelled to write this blog about our hog killing after I randomly saw a photograph of a pickup truck piled with people going down a dirt road somewhere overseas. When I see pictures like that I have exciting memories of my first time hanging on in the back of a truck, and the many times after. I can’t help feeling nostalgic, sensing the warm moist air on my face and hair flying in all directions. Most times when that happens (especially in the middle of winter) I think we should escape this Ohio life and go abroad! And I suppose that I will always have twinges of that. We enjoyed our previous lives, fond memories go along with that, and that is good! But this time, I was immediately brought back to our day of hog harvesting… and it made me happy that this is what we have chosen and the childhood we are giving our kids.

We woke up early that morning, mostly because starting early is nice, but also because Finn had an Upward basketball game at 11, so I was going to have to leave by 10:30. The day was much too warm to be January, and we met at the truck without mittens and hats. Everyone hopped in the the bed of the truck but Annabel and I rode in the front. The whole way down to the woods I could hear squeals of delight from the kids and Katie’s contagious laughter. The sun was shining, and there was thick fog blanketing the valley with only the hilltops peaking through.  

We made our way through the mud to the base of the woods and everyone got out. We gathered at the fence edge where we all became silent, and Andy read For The Hog Killing by Wendell Berry, a tradition we uphold. Taking the life of an animal is not a light act. We have enjoyed raising and caring for these pigs and we appreciate the gift of life and death they bring.

We walked through the woods greeting the pigs as they came down the hill to see what we were doing. They were feeling playful, romping around like puppies. Shepherd had his new camera and he took pictures of our pig (who’s name was Boss) to “remember how good his ribs were”.

Everything went flawlessly.

After Andy and Doug loaded Boss into the tractor, everyone jumped back into the bed of the pickup, and Finn begged for Annabel and I to sit back there too. I was leary because it was so muddy and I knew Andy would have to drive fast just to make it up the hill. It’s hard to hang on to a moving toddler and hold on to the truck at the same time. But I remembered the laughter, and saw his pleading eyes and I said “Yes”.

I looked around the truck bed as we raced through the mud, and loved seeing the twinkling eyes of the people there. Finn was “surfing”, Shep was taking pictures, Breece sat with Katie, Naomi stood near me, and Kathy sat on the edge. My farm family. These people are beautiful. This land where we live is beautiful.

We worked together that day (and the whole rest of the week) on that pig. Sometimes the kids were willing to help, sometimes they were not. Some adults did more than others depending on other obligations. Sometimes we were frustrated, sometimes we just laughed and enjoyed the process. Living this life we have chosen is wild and reckless, quiet and calculated, purposeful and at times painful. But I’m proud of the way we do things. I believe that we’re doing it the best we can. And I cannot wait to eat that pork!