If it seems unlikely for a
vegetarian (that would be
me) to own a couple of table-
bound pigs, it probably
seems downright absurd
that their names should be
Tender and Delicious.
And yet, there they are,
in their little house, behind
their fence, a couple hundred
yards behind the
house here at Schoolhouse
Farm. They’ve been here
since earlier in the summer.
For my part, I’ve never
been so glad to have had a
series of sinus allergies that
have impaired my olfactory
abilities.
Having spent even just a
little bit of time with them,
I’ve begun to wonder exactly
how it is that pigs ever
became such a popular
farm animal. Perhaps it is
a testament to the supreme
gastronomical pleasure of
bacon and pork chops, because
they seem to be
among the more difficult
animals to bring from farm
to table.
First, there’s the smell.
Oh. My. Lord. The smell.
It would be more pleasant
to raise a herd of skunks
with major anxiety disorders.
Then there’s that legendary
pig intelligence.
Since I was a little girl, I’ve
heard people compare pigs
to dogs because of their intelligence.
I have it on good
authority that one of the
farmers at The Farmers’
Museum teaches the pigs
there to sit in order to get
their daily meals.
P.S. If you ever have
pigs, teach them to sit in order
to get their food. The
difference between a pig
who will sit and a pig who
just wants to eat is like the
difference between a wolf
and a golden retriever.
At my house, we have
wolves. They are small,
pink, oinking wolves, but
wolves nonetheless.
Remember the pig scene
in “The Wizard of Oz,” before
the twister and Dorothy’s
trip to the Yellow
Brick Road? Dorothy is
walking along the pigs’
fence like a balance beam,
and falls into their pen. All
the adults drop what they’re
doing and race to her rescue.
It’s not because she
fell; it’s because she fell into
a pen full of rutting, carnivorous
animals.
Are pork chops really
that good?
For my part, I try to
have as little interaction as
possible with Tender and
Delicious, especially Delicious.
Tender seems fairly resigned
to her fate as sustenance.
She stays in the pen.
She runs into the mini-barn
when people approach, and
timidly emerges when she
realizes that food is in the
offing. She sleeps like a
hamster under her straw.
Delicious, on the other
hand, is the alpha swine.
She hangs out near the
gate, rears up on her hind
legs to investigate visitors
and snorts out commands.
Feed me! Feed me! Feed
me!
She also gets out on a
semi-regular basis.
Their fence consists of
horizontal boards, like a
horse fence, reinforced inside
with a layer of welded
wire pig fencing that also
goes a couple of feet into
the ground to discourage a
tunneling escape.
Beneath the gate, there
lies a heavy railroad tie to
prevent the girls from exiting
there.
I should say that the
railroad tie is there sometimes,
because Delicious is
adept at moving it out of
her way when she feels the
need. She also has learned
to pull the wire away from
the wood in order to make
an escape.
To date, she has never
traveled far, just rooting
about the fields of Schoolhouse
Farm, trotting close
enough to the dining room
window to send our little
dogs into a flurry of fury.
And when she hears that
her human captives have
returned from their day
passes, she will venture
down to the driveway to
terrify and menace us.
Feed me! Feed me! Feed
me!
What human ancestor of
ours decided that this kind
of animal would make for
ideal livestock? Yes, their
meat is tender (and delicious,
from what I understand),
but the downside is
enormous. How did pigs
win out over, say, deer or
rabbits or one of those other,
gentler breeds that remain
``game’’ instead of
“livestock”?
I would ponder that longer,
but my captor is calling.
Feed me! Feed me! Feed
me!
Elizabeth Trever Buchinger
is contemplating a
BLT. You can connect with
her at www.moremindfulfamily.
wordpress.com.
Columns
This Wonderful Life: Are pork chops really that good?
- Columns
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From Fly Creek: Revving up for spring
Time to bring you up to date on Fly Creek’s happy clambering into Spring. First, the eatery scene. “Is Jerry’s open yet?” The answer is, “Oh, yes!” The porches are freshly stained; the lawns a uniform green, and the hop vines are already climbing the posts on the covered side deck. Blue and I went up there to lunch earlier this week, and I celebrated spring with my traditional bacon, onion and Swiss cheese hamburger. We two sat on the deck, enjoying the broad view and some spectacular clouds marching across, up toward Schuyler Lake.
Continued ... -
In These Otsego Hills: More from 1986 ...
This week we continue with the discussion of telephone service from the pre-dial days. On March 12 we noted that: “No one has yet produced a telephone directory from pre-dial days, but Doug Preston of New Hartford recalls that some business (which one?) in the village had the phone number 7.”
Continued ... -
Home Notes: Celebrations abound at the Thanksgiving Home
April was a month of celebrations and much to appreciate. We had a 90th birthday celebration for Wanda Noyes on April 4 including her family and friends. Personal care staff Dee Bouck worked with residents to hand paint Easter eggs for the tree in the activity room.
Continued ... -
In These Otsego Hills: 1986 continues ...
This week we continue our journey through the columns of 1986 with the answer to the question “for whom, according to tradition, was Hannah’s Hill named?”
Continued ... -
Book Notes: Baseball book features local contributors
Baseball is part of the nation’s fabric. Most kids have a memory of the game either from playing Little League, attending a major league contest or meeting a favorite player. In Cooperstown that feeling is magnified since we are the official home of baseball. We get to see firsthand what has made the sport the national pastime.
Continued ... -
From Fly Creek: Ya really wanna know?
SETTING: Fly Creek General Store. CAST: Assorted seated geezers, drinking coffee. [Door opens, enter heavy-set geezer; walking slowly with wide stance, maybe prostatitis.]
Continued ... -
In These Otsego Hills: Returning to 1986 ...
For the past several years now we have undertaken sharing some of the area’s oral history we have collected over the years that we have written this column. Therefore, this year, we would like to go back to 1986 to share that rather unusual year. Those who were here then no doubt remember that it was that year that the village celebrated the bicentennial of its founding.
Continued ... -
From Fly Creek: For reasons unknowable
[Jim’s reached back to 2002 to share one of his favorite columns.] My father was born as the last century began into a river village in tidewater Maryland. He told me once of a man there in his boyhood who, like so many, made a thin living tonging for oysters in the cold months and, in the hot and humid ones, crabbing and raising vegetables.
Continued ... -
In These Otsego Hills: CCS balancing act ... side two
Last week we shared a number of activities in which students at CCS can participate. We thought it was an impressive, if not overwhelming, list. And we are indeed pleased that the young people of our area have these opportunities. However, we think it is also important to keep in mind that these undertakings do have a cost associated with them. They are not free. In fact there are, no doubt, those who would say they do not come cheap.
Continued ... -
From Fly Creek: A graceful crowd
Make of this what you will, friends. I feel I’m really meant to share it with you. Despite good medication for my Parkinsonism, every four or five weeks I can sensethe symptoms building up on me, giving me more than ordinary trouble. Lately it’s been falls, and last week brought a typical one. I’d gone out to get the paper, moving along with penguin steps on the snowcoved ice patches, and usingmy spike-tipped cane the waya climber uses an ice axe. But circumstances overcame me. Parkinson’s wipes out the possibility of multi-tasking.
Continued ... -
In These Otsego Hills: This and that and the other side ...
We note that the CCS Class of 2012 is presenting its senior class play, “Snow White” by Tim Kelly, this week with performances 7:30 p.m Thursday and Friday, March 29 and 30, and at 11 a.m. and 7:30 p.m. Saturday, March 31. All performances will be at the Nicolas J. Sterling Auditorium at the Middle/High School.
Continued ... -
In These Otsego Hills: That green thing ...
Of late we have noticed that our email inbox has been much busier than usual. In fact, we find ourselves hard pressed to keep up with all the various messages we receive. As a result we suspect we have not answered some in as timely a fashion as might be thought appropriate.
Continued ... -
From Fly Creek: What you need to know
In their last Sunday’s bulletins, all 84 churches of Otsego County were to have carried announcements of an important meeting; most of them did. But because the announcement is so important, and not just to the churched, here it is again.
Continued ... -
Book Notes: Living the magic of ‘Hoosier’
A lot of people consider “Hoosiers” the best sports film of all time. The 1986 classic follows the exploits of a fictional small town Indiana high school basketball team in 1952 as it attempts to achieve the impossible dream of a state championship. The story is inspired by the true life achievement of the 1954 Milan team, who with an enrollment of only 161 students shocked big city power Muncie Central on a last second shot to win the state title. It’s the kind of sports story that represents something that is hard to grasp unless you live in a small town.
Continued ... -
In These Otsego Hills: The most perfect village... home to heavy industry?
We suspect we would get a whole lot more accomplished if we spent less time thinking, pondering and musing about things. In fact, there is a good possibility we might actually have completed our goal of cleaning the basement if we only focused on the task at hand, instead of trying to figure out the world around us. It almost makes us wonder if it is possible to think too much about things. We certainly hope not because should that be the case, we are in deep trouble.
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Up On Hawthorn Hill: The past in the present
Clichés abound about the value of photographs. Most are probably true at least to a certain extent. What I do know about an image is that it represents something of the past that is not the pastitself. But that is the power of any image. It represents something that once was. The beauty of an image, revisited, is that it functions as a catalystfor reliving in the present a past experience. My own view, one that I thank the Spanish writer Jorge Luis Borges for, is that all we ever can experience is the present.
Continued ... -
Home Notes: Workshops held for Thanksgiving Home residents
We welcomed Linda Keller, Ph.D. of the Bassett Research Institute and Ida Baker of NYCAMH who presented a six-week workshop for residents and staff.
Continued ... -
From Fly Creek: Late-winter hamlet news
Well, at least I’m “guessing” it’s late winter now — in the winter that wasn’t. But, if not snow, I can provide a flurry of Fly Creek news to share with you, scooping Associated Press, Reuter’s, and United Press International, not to mention all local news services except our General Store.
Continued ... -
In These Otsego Hills: Waiting for spring to have sprung ...
Difficult as it to believe, both January and February seem to have flown by and we find ourselves turning the calendar over to the month of March, which we have long thought is one of the more dreary months of the year. Of course, as in the pastthere are signs of spring as reflected by the tapping of the maple trees. For many years, the trees sprouted buckets to capture their all important sap. However, we now know to look for the sap collection lines that are strung from tree to tree.
Continued ... -
Book Notes: Kennedy: a unique individual
It’s been almost 50 years since the Kennedy assassination shocked the nation. Since then much has been written about President John F. Kennedy and whether he would have achieved his destiny (whatever that may have been) if he had lived. It is said he inspired young people in a way that has never been equaled. And there is the notion of Camelot, espoused by his widow Jackie, that there will never be a time of hope and promise like that again.
Continued ...
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From Fly Creek: Revving up for spring
