This story is not for all you Veggie folks. Growing up on a farm teaches you a lot of fun loving things. This time of year is just the beginning of what the summer holds for rambunctious young boys. It was a rule about our house, “if the sun was out, we were to be outside”.  Well young boys outside running around and doing all sorts of stuff, we got hungry. I don’t know if there was ever a meal where we were without a doubt full. Mother always claimed a couple of us young boys had hollow legs. She did attempt to cook more than we could eat, but only once. She learned a couple of wild boys could tuck away the food.  Its sort of like the wild animal eats as much as they can because lean days are coming. We would eat as though every meal was the last. We were always skinny runts because we were quite an active bunch. Our play things could be anything that would move. Occasionally this would even be an animal or two.  There were times a wild animal might mistakenly venture into our play area. That area was mostly defined by the ability of the adult in charge being able to see us. Now, if it was one of our sisters, we just threw that rule into the wind. Every now and then, one of us would make sure the babysitter would see where we were. Then it was back to whatever the game was. Usually it was something we were not supposed to be doing. One time a porcupine ventured into our designated area.

I must stop here and explain. Living on a farm, there were lots of fields. It was only when we chose to venture into the wooded area we had to be on the look out for the babysitter.  We didn’t seem to have much of a fear of anything else in the world. Any four legged animal was fair game. This poor porcupine just did not expect the two of us to be so brave. With sticks, we managed to steer the porcupine toward the house. Our goal was to actually convince it to go into the house. But unfortunately for us, a couple of the adults quickly discovered what we were up to. We got quite a stern lesson of who not to play with. Ok, so what to do next. Well, Dad had just brought home two piglets. One of them accidentally got out of the pen.  This was the beginning of one of the greatest games we could even imagine. That little piglet ran for his life just trying to get away from us. Well the more he ran away, the greater the game.  Sister was afraid of that squealing pig coming at her at about 90 miles an hour. This just added so much more to the fun and games. If she had just gone into the house and stayed, all would have been fine. But she just had to come out and  to make sure we behaved. Of course, this just encouraged us to steer that poor piglet right toward little sister again. Eventually big sister, the babysitter, started feeling bad for little piglet. She ordered us to put that pig back in the pen. There was no more pretending to  get the little fella back where he belonged. This just meant, we would have to find something else to do the rest of the day.  Now if any of you folks have ever heard a little piglet squeal for his life, you will surely remember that sound. That could be a sound of great concern, but in our case, an invite for more shenanigans  Spring time is about the time to find some more piglets. Most of you folks know that trying to feed ten growing wild youngsters, you have to raise your own food. Spring is the time to plan on what needs to be done for the year.  So you would venture off to the animal auctions and purchase the years supply of food. Sometimes a neighbor or friend would have extra for sale. But the task was to get at least two piglets.  Two piglets were almost like having two growing active boys such as we were. They would always compete to get the most of the food.  There was more than once that Mother referenced us to being like those pigs as we ate. But we were usually in a hurry just to get back outside to do what we had been doing. You see the majority of the time, we were out of arms reach and safe from a whooping. As long as little sister wasn’t part of our gang, we felt safe from the whooping. The quicker we could get back outside, the quicker we could hide from little sister. That was all part of fun and games for the summer.

 

Time has gone by and the family has gone their own ways. But the thought of fresh home grown food never leaves you. So one spring, a friend and I bought a couple of piglets. At that time, I lived in Portland, and big brother still lived in Rangeley. Not a real problem, we just put the piglets in the back seat and drove on up to Rangeley. While we were driving on the turnpike, cars would slow down and give a blast of the horn. They had never seen pigs in the back window before. Guess they were city folks. But, onward we continued. Upon arrival in Rangeley, the plan was hatched to just put the piglets in the house and pretend we were never there. Well as I mentioned before little piglets squeal, and squeal they did.  It was ten at night and our little surprise was quickly becoming a comedy act. I caught one piglet and it screamed for dear life. Friend caught the other and that one did the same. So here we were two grown men trying to sneak two hollering pigs into brothers house. We were quick enough to get them into the kitchen before anyone objected to our plan. There was no need to try and sneak any more. But the sound of squealing piglets and the thought of surprise, surprise will always be a great memory. I sort of feel bad for those veggie people. I have never heard a beet or carrot squeal like a little piglet. But then, I have never tried to surprise anyone with a carrot either. Maybe there is fun in that?  I shall have to try that one day.  After all, life is about having a bit of fun.   Ken White mountainman  COB

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