the three big...

...pigs.

Remember, I told you that at some point, the pigs would be dinner?  Well, it's that time.  And the life expectancy of a pig for eating (not potbelly pigs), is just not that long.

But it's ok, because while they used to be really stinkin' cute.  They got big.

 And then they were only cute, not really stinkin' cute.

 Miss Piggy was getting biiiiig and Sally continued to be a runt, but we couldn't help that.

She worked what her momma gave her.

Since Brutus and Miss Piggy were big, it was time to go...or so we thought.

When we got to the meat processors', we saw this lil lady.  I wish there was a way to show scale here.  This pig was probably close to 5 or 6 feet long and about 900 pounds.  That, of course, is good for sausage, but not a whole lot more.  It's just too big.

Pigs are supposed to be 225 to 250 pounds when you take them in.  We figured they were close, but it turns out Brutus was the biggest at 190 pounds and as the lady at the butcher's said, "it just goes down from there."  I think they were making fun of us for being rookies.

 It was fun having them and while I knew it from the start, I'm still sad to see them go.

new business

When our time was drawing close at the ranch, Lenny and I started talking about starting a business together.  What business?  Well, lemme tell ya.  We went through a lot of them.  I think we've finally settled on the food business because, well, that's what we know.

Right now we're in the process of finding a location.  And working on our recipes.  Hopefully, if things start to pan out, I'll take you on this journey with us.

happy november!

I can hardly believe it's November 2 and still almost 70 degrees outside.  Ok, so this was believable when I was living in Florida - which I'm pretty much completely moved in (i.e. overrun Dow) - but in Colorado?  No way!

I took advantage of such a nice day by helping Dow unload the hay he picked up yesterday.  See, I thought that maybe I'd go for a run/walk (that's what you do when you can no longer run because your lungs have become couch potatoes), except after throwing 66 bales off the trailer, I was done.  Shot.  But really only my arms.  I always find excuses.

So I figured I'd better ride the baby.

Remember this cute little thing?

Well, after Georgia and I got the saddle on her, Tim, the Frenchman, got to riding her.  So she's pretty well broke now.  But she's still a baby.   When I went out to ride her, she was a complete brat!  You give a horse and inch she'll take a mile.

Here's the deal.  I brought her home with me when I left the ranch, since I'm about the only person small enough to ride her.

And she's seen the good life her compradres have.

Notice they are on the outside of the fence, just having a leisurely sunning in the spring.

So now she thinks she needs to be with them all the time.  Doing nothing.

But what she doesn't know is that Bimbo has work by herself for more than 6 hours at a time.  And China (chee-nuh, like Cochina doll) has to lug around a 6'6", 250 pound man for that long.  I think those girls should just tell her to get over it.

And enjoy the beautiful weather.