Here he is with the Kentucky Cultivator he found in our basement. Besides opening up new ground for our garden we also spent the day pruning trees and grape-vines and other winter time garden chores.
Then on our way home from taking the cows some grass hay we came upon a herd of 20 shoats (my father tells me this is the correct term for a pig betwixt aproximately 130 and 180 pounds). Leaving the truck running he carefully retrieves his Marlin .44 magnum lever-action open-sights rifle and steps cautiously from the truck making sure not to close the door. He walks quietly, yet decisively towards the group rutting in yonder meadow 100 feet away. Spying a brush pile half way to the meadow he finds refuge there to take his shot. BAM. And then all the pigs scram except for one which lays dead from the bullet that pierced his heart. Perfect shot. I was impressed. Aren't you? Then back to the house where he gutted, skinned and cut all the meat off of the pig.
Then we traveled a short distance to a neighbor who has an electic meat grinder, which made it easy to turn all that meat into tasty sausage.
An odd coincidence happened today. Exactly one year ago, on February 21, 2008, we butchered Pink my once pet pig. We had no idea, until I had by chance glanced into my personal journal. Strange but true happenings at The Ranch on Salmon Creek.
If you would like to get our sausage recipe and a few more details on dressing a hog you can read last year's post here.