Robin Hood and Monkey Bars

I spent many hours yesterday cutting the fat from our two pigs into dice-sized cubes, then rendering it. We had fifty pounds of the beautiful white fat, which happily was only three batches in the canning pot. What a blessing that enormous pot has been!

Fifty pounds of fat became 23 quarts of lard and a good many fried cracklings; almost six gallons.

Phil spent Wednesday figuring out the new watering system next door, and then worked more on the greenhouse: finishing up the final end bow, and then tightening bolts, bit by bit.

Today, he put the wind supports up on the corners, and the little boys figured they would make a good playset. They climbed and swung like monkeys, all the while giggling.

I thawed out one of the pigs' heads, determined to make head cheese, which is an appetizer mold that's supposed to be quite nice. I am afraid it won't be quite as good as it should, since I couldn't figure out where to cut away the lower jaw. And one piece of directions said to cut out the eyes, but I simply couldn't do it. Perhaps I will have lost all squeamishness someday, but for now, I'm simply pleased that I'm attempting this new task, since the first batch of pigs' heads went into the compost pile, and the second was accidentally sent to the dog food plant. So my pig head is cooking, almost whole (apparently with brains cleaned out, though I'm not sure how the processor managed that, with only little holes in the skull). It may cook all night, and then I will have to figure out what to do.

Chunky the pig has discovered a way to get out, and he avails himself of his escape route regularly. It still startles me a bit to see the 300 pounder, filthy from wallowing, wander around the homestead. He peaks in the trash, pokes around under the table, walks between the barn and the motor home. He stuck his head in a bucket (probably used for feed recently), and got a bit stuck, so he backed up until he bopped his bum on the corner of the trailer. The bucket popped off.

Although unnerving, I kind of like it. It's certainly not an everyday event to have a pig walk through the living quarters. And then the rascally hens, who persist in escaping (or, perhaps, there are simply more hens free than we realize), wander past, too, and it all feels very farm-like. Friendly.

Joe and his brothers continue to revel in the massive number of Cars-the-Movie Duplo sets, which have been the present of choice for a year now. Sometimes we have a mini model of Radiator Springs, and sometimes the Duplos transform into spaceships, airplanes, or just large windows.

And, when forced to go outside to enjoy the marvelous late afternoon weather, Abraham and Joe picked up the Little People and developed a thorough story about the adventures of Robin Hood, which Abraham re-enacted for me twice, and again for Phil. It was quite involved, and Robin Hood several times "scurried" (!) out of a dungeon, barely ahead of his pursuers.