A year ago I didn't even eat pork. Well, not deliberately. I just didn't tend to buy it.
Now I don't know a great deal, but I reckon I know how to raise a pig.
I know they're pregnant for exactly three months, three weeks and three days. (As long as you, *cough*, know when they were mated.)
I know what they like to eat and how fast they can plough through kikuyu grass.
I know what kind of fence keeps them in and if Adam is trying to catch one it's always good to have a camera handy.
Our shoates (newly weaned pigs) are ready for the big wide world of free range farming. On Friday two are going to a nearby farm to dig up a brand new biodynamic market garden. Two are staying here to be raised for a favourite neighbour with two more that we'll keep for sale.
Being a humble novice pig farmer I have no advice except to say raising pigs is pretty simple and home grown pork is something you have to try once in your life. If you have the space and the inclination, pigs are excellent. We recommend not naming them. We've accidentally got an Uncle Pig and a Mummy Pig and we regret it. We particularly never should have (accidentally) named Uncle.
The stark farming reality is that Uncle Pig is going to have, as Joel Salatin says, One Very Bad Day next week. Although our pigs are carefully transported by Adam and processed at a small local abattoir so the end is as humane as we can achieve.
And they've lived such a rambolling life in the paddocks here.
We have a few piglets left for sale. If you're local and interested, send me an email.
They're Large White/Berkshire/something unidentified cross, six weeks old and fast as greased lightening. Be quick!