8 Pigs, No Blankets, and a Dull Knife
Introspection & Contemplation
Click here to listen to the tune I heard while typing
About 10 years ago I was gifted a monstrous snare drum for my drumset. I was so stoked to get something of that high quality. But as soon as I got it, I initially almost returned it thinking there was somekind of defect in it. In my 20 years of drumming experience I had never been tested by anything. Everything just always came easy. Tuning a drum, not so much. So, a 6 month love- hate war began with what eventually became a tuned up sound from a drum that the entire city of Halifax knew was my signature sound. — But I almost gave up that sound because of a lack of confidence. A fear of failure. An unwillinness to grow, to learn, to be different.
Last fall a local homsteader and hobbie-farmer that my wife and I purchase hatching eggs from offered to raise a pig for us through winter. In mid March they were ready to harvest and I was summoned into a coalition of the willing to participate in the annual harvest of the entire herd. This years’ head count was 8 piggies. So, off I go into a bitter South-West wind for two days, head long into something unexpected. My wife and I have been caring for a flock of chickens since the 2020 shenanigans. Part of me told myself, it can’t be any worse then chickens right? ya… no. The 8 Piggies, turned out to be the snare drum war all over again.
I showed up poorly dressed, underdressed, and improperly tooled. No windbreaker, sweater only. No blade longer then 2.5” — that became dull after the first two animals were harvested. No field sharpening skills aside from my bench gear — which was no good to me on my bench at home, while I was standing in a pig poop infested field. No toque. No tea in a thermos. No blanket for break times.
In the movie Sister Act there is an old nun that describes a convent she had lived in:
“Out in the woods. It wasn't all modern like some of these new-fangled convents. We didn't have electricity. Bare feet, cold water. They were nuns. It was hell on Earth and I loved it”.
I want to be clear. I suffered. I was miserable. But for some reason, I can relate to that nun character. Despite extreme misery, I had a smile on my face that could not be wiped all weekend. I believe part of this was God’s grace at work. Not exclusively in supernatural way. It also came by way of natural ordinary means in the amazing people I was surrounded by. We suffered meekly, but we lauged greatly.
The takeaway from the weekend is a completely new outlook on my philosophy regarding tool usage, and a burning desire to focus on certain field skills which despite caring for chickens, I had no idea were that important for us prepper/homesteader type folk.
Moving forward, readers can expect some tool and kit reviews and a few how to videos.
Until next time,
God bless, take care, work safe.
BlueCollarDude