Tag Archives: pigs

I love my town.


It’s time for small town news again…. so city folk can see what they’re missing.



No worries. Said piggy was reunited with his family and is safely back home.

The want ads in small rural towns tend to look a bit different.



Spleeny- New England : peevish and irritable with hypochondriac inclinations.



I’m almost afraid to ask why someone wants to rehome a skeleton.



I’m going to pass this one on to my husband because he came home from breakfast with the boys the other day bitching that his omelette had gone up a dollar.

I know I’m paying more for groceries, it stands to reason restaurants are as well.


Apple graveyard


After my husband cut the wood and dragged off the small branches from his apple tree butchering….



We were left with a veritable apple graveyard.



I filled buckets and totes and gave a large box to our friend but there were still hundreds on the ground.



I love to bake and will occasionally dehydrate but I’m not a canner. Which means we had too many apples. I tried to gift them to our neighbors but they all have trees loaded with fruit this year as well.

Enter our town’s Facebook page.



I was immediately flooded with messages and let 3 women come over and harvest the bounty. They all filled big buckets but there was still more on the ground.



Perfect! The porcine owner showed up with her kids, buckets, totes, bags and a wagon. She totally cleared out the area and I thought how nice… their pet piggy will be happily munching on sweet treats. I asked her to send me a picture of the cutie and sadly realized that little piggy won’t be happy for long.




I thanked her, but declined the offer. Come on, if you name him? You shouldn’t eat him.


It’s a miracle!


Somewhere …. pigs are flying. I know this because I went out to the big barn and saw something I never thought I’d see.



My husband sorting through and …. are you sitting down?… actually throwing things out!

It’s true. And I might have wept with joy. (After an orgasm. Or two. )

Not only did he throw things out….



He chopped some up and cut them into little pieces.



Okay he did it with a saw that was on the floor because the tables were covered in crap… but still!

The old rotten shelf with the 40 degree lean that was filled with useless stuff? Gone!



Whatever this was?



It and all it’s relatives… gone!

I couldn’t figure out why this was happening, but it’s like extended happy hour at your favorite bar…. you don’t ask why. You just drink till you pass out.

And then I noticed where all of these things were going.



In piles alongside the deck.

One minute there was a rusty folding camp bed and broken sewing machine table…. the next minute? They were gone.

I assumed the husband was loading up his truck for a dump run, but no.

It turns out the man who we hired to paint our barn wanted it.

All of it.

And was filling up the back of his truck.



Pardon the terrible through the screen photo but I was so happy to see the crap leave our property I had to.

So miracles do happen, and the best miracle of all?

We’d hired a fellow hoarder! And I realized the husband wasn’t throwing out his treasure…. he was gifting it.

Why in the world didn’t I think of this sooner?


I love my town….


And their slightly off balance Facebook page.




Not off hand, no.

But I hope he finds one. Pigless is a terrible thing to be.




This picture of our local sheriff’s truck was posted by a resident.

Because really, who needs blue lights when you have a chicken?





This post was met with the incredulity and the scathing derision it deserved . Reveal your fiddlehead location? To a stranger!!

Mainers have been killed for less.

Fiddleheads are a precious ($15-$20 per pound) and extremely fleeting commodity in the spring. Locals protect their secret gathering spots like they do their virgin daughters. Personally I can’t stand the slimy things…




But Mainers go berserk for them.

And speaking of barely edible food, some well meaning townie posted this:




Now really, if I’m not going to eat the delicate unfurled leaves of a fern?

You can damn sure bet I’m not baking helicopter seed pods that look like bugs.


I love my town… chapter 4.


My town’s FB page keeps me up to date on all the important local happenings…





And some of the not so important ones as well.



There were a lot of takers for this next one…




I’m just hoping this wasn’t their mode of transportation.




Another lost pig made the news…




And he seemed pretty happy to stay that way.




Then there was a woman wondering if anyone was interested in a group she was getting together.




Singing bowls?

Clearly she attended one of those crazy adult education classes I’m always riffing about.




And finally there was this one, posted on the day Maine made cell phone usage while driving illegal.

Technically it’s not about my town, but funny all the same.




Goat horn foreheads should never be overlooked.


goat horn


Thank you Google Images for providing my nightmare material for the foreseeable future.




I love my town… Part 2


More blurbs from my town’s FB page that are too good not to share.

Lots of things were lost this month….




Along with Batman, there was the weekly pig escape.




Before moving here, I never knew errant pigs were such a problem.

And apparently sheep are as well.




Big white coffee tables.

Ya gotta love it.

This next one was amusing as well.




I’m not sure a bat circling your couch is a valid reason to call 911…. but I never saw the update, so maybe I’m wrong.

And finally, there was this….





Glad I wasn’t in town that day….

Thankfully our air was fish stink free.



Going hog wild…


I’m beginning to wonder if my town has a problem.

A pig problem.




On the contrary, I love pigs….

But I’m starting to think they’ve all heard about the backyard buffet we lay out and are on their way.

You see, they’ve been escaping at an alarming rate.

Every time I check our local FB page –




IMG_5667 (2)


Well, they’d be pretty hard to miss now wouldn’t they?


IMG_5666 (2)


And as much as I love seeing new wildlife at out house, technically these guys aren’t wild…



And usually make a mess of their lawns.

So unless they’re housebroken and well groomed?



Kindly keep your piggies corralled.





I’d hate to explain that accident to my car insurance company.


Fun at the fair…. and balls.


We hadn’t been to the Topsham Fair in years, and after going the other day I remembered why.

Maine has some fabulous county fairs….. but this isn’t one of them.

With a $12 charge per person to get in? There should have been more… everything.




We started with the livestock, because I do love me some critters.




I got up close and personal with sheep….




While the husband chatted up a cow.




This cow was lying down.




As was her owner…




And it took all my willpower not to yell at him to drop his phone and learn how to spell her name properly.




Sorry El….



This cow had a little speck of something on her nose…




Which proved to be no problem.




Yes, that’s her tongue. And she knew how to use it.




Did you know…




Cows can’t vomit?

I live to enlighten.




We saw ox, and horses.




Some huge.




Some small.

We saw pigs…




With lots of baby pigs…




And goats..




With some pretty big…




Sorry…. but holy crap!




How do you walk with balls that big?



We strolled around looking for the chicken barn….

Only to discover there wasn’t one.

Very disappointing.




And then we walked past the “Decorate a Bale of Hay” contest.




Which… yeah.




Was a bit odd.




I temporarily lost the husband to some old rusty crap.




And found him checking out some sweet old vehicles for sale.




We meandered through the collection of carriages and sleighs which we always love…




And found a cannon…




With a strategically placed ball.




In a sack.

Tell me someone doesn’t have a sense of humor….



We made the obligatory walk through the exhibition hall.




But the Blue Ribbon rhubarb failed to thrill.

And aside from the carnival rides we didn’t ride and the roach coach junk food that we didn’t eat, that was it….

Until I spotted George.




And fell in love.



I mean… look at him!




George is an Emu.












And despite the prehistoric raptor like gaze, quite friendly.

Here’s some riveting video of him drinking water.



And a little something closer up.



He’s over 6 foot tall, with coarse dense feathers.

Yes, we bonded…. and I petted him.

Totally worth the $12 admission price.