Pure Old English Happiness

It’s fall - and that means the beaches in Maine are open to bring your dogs. We’ve had a stretch of unseasonably warm temperatures, and it was a perfect day to go out and visit the nearby beach where the Boy and my Bride both surf.

The water is definitely cold - there’s no way I’d be going in there without a wetsuit. Apparently, the dog agreed as well - a wave touched her paw, and she figured that was close enough.

But.. you can see how much these two enjoyed just the wide open (people-free) stretch of wet sand. Chasing each other, and laughing (as a dog can) in the freedom of it all.

Beautiful.

Old English Sleepydog

On a chilly, rainy day, the best thing to do sometimes is just to curl up in bed and wait for it to be over.

March came and went. And it left pigs.

March went by pretty quickly. In part because I was traveling quite a bit for work. Which isn't my favorite way to spend my time, but it sort of comes with the gig. And it tends to come in waves, when it comes. I think this March was a particularly big wave. I was gone 3 out of the last 4 weeks. But on one of my few weekends back in Maine, I managed to go pick up two piglets. 

The kids got to name them this year. The darker one was named 'Apples' by the Boy. The Critter asked if she could name hers after a character from a book. Sure thing, kid. The lighter one thus named 'Beth'. 

(I didn't ask, but I'm pretty sure she was thinking of 'Little Women' - Beth was the sister that died later in the book, for the record. There's not much doubt about the fate of these little bacon seeds in our house). 

A couple of days or so after the piglets showed up, it snowed. (Because: Maine). George is still trying to figure out what kind of dogs these things are. 

The pigs this year are a different breed - they're a Yorkshire x Tamworth x Oldspot cross. A leaner, longer, bacony-er pig. Which is totally a thing. The Oldspot is a fattier, heritage breed, which grows great hams. A longer pig gives you more belly. Hence: more bacon. But I still fully expect these to make great prosciutto. 

These particular prosciuttos will be ready for slaughter in early fall. In the meantime, we'll all enjoy their presence, and - when I'm not traveling - I'll get to enjoy my morning livestock rituals once more. 

Happiness.