Sunday, February 22, 2009

What We Did Saturday

Yesterday I teased you all with this picture, and asked you to guess what we were doing with that barrel. Several of you thought about the fact that we are country folks and made some really good guesses, including smoking meat or boiling fat.

Photobucket

In actuality, we were boiling water. Needed lots of hot boiling water to scrape the hog Pete killed. More pictures and commentary follow. This may not be something for the extremely tenderhearted or squeamish although I didn't post any of the extremely graphic shots.

Hannah documented the whole thing with her digital camera as this is becoming a lost art.

Photobucket

This is the sow we killed. She's never took when we tried to breed her, so her days were numbered.

Photobucket

Robert McGallion and Pete cutting out a hole in the hog pen so they can remove the hog.

Photobucket

They placed her on a sheet of plywood and pulled her over near the fire hole with the tractor.

Photobucket

Pete pours a couple of pots of boiling water over the snout and Robert begins scrapping the hair off.

Photobucket

Robert is the teacher. Here Pete and Bubba begin practicing what they were shown and told.

Photobucket

Pete's nephew, Dusty, is here now and helping Bubba. He plans to be butchering a hog of his own soon and wanted to learn. Two young men save the old codgers a lot of bending and squatting. ;o)

Photobucket

One side is almost complete. Grab the ears and the feet, flip it over and do the other side.

Photobucket

Nothing is wasted. Here Duck even scrapes and cleans the tail.

Photobucket

Another nephew, Benny's son David, rides up on the four wheeler and he gets in on the action as well. Special care is given to cleaning the feet. Toe nails are popped off.

Photobucket

Don't forget her belly!

Photobucket

Make a handy-dandy holder out of the tendon on the back of the hind feet.

Photobucket

The hog is dragged on the board to under the A-frame. The hind feet are put on the hook and it is lifted by come-a-longs.

Photobucket

The head is cut off. The front feet. And then it is gutted and cleaned inside.

Photobucket

Here, Bubba and Bug are observing from the back of the truck.

Photobucket

A shot of them actually working on it.

Photobucket

The finished project. The carcass is off to be processed. Smoked hocks and bacon. Pork chops. And lots of sausage.

The head, the heart and the feet will be boiled down one day soon and Pete and Robert will make hogs head cheese out of it. They eat it. I don't.

When it is processed, the excess skin and fat will be saved for us. One day Pete will take it out and cut it in small pieces. He'll then boil it to render out the fat for frying and this will also make some tasty cracklings for snacking and cornbread.

Hope you enjoyed your Saturday in Caneyhead.

Barbara

Saturday, February 21, 2009

What's Going On?

Okay, folks. Here's a picture that was made this morning. Take a good look and tell me, if you can, what this drum is doing over the fire. What is it's purpose? What did we do this morning?
Photobucket

I'll be back later to tell you the whole story with plenty more pictures.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Thirteen makes a baker's dozen

Hello, all! We've recently gone into a rather bizarre boarding and tour enterprise. Pete's chicken coop sits on the top of the hill not far from where he buried our bunker in the ground. Below that is a semi-cleared sloping woody spot heading down into the baygall. From time to time, coons bother the chickens or their eggs.

Not too long ago, Pete and Bug noticed dear tracks near the wood line. So when they'd go to feed the chickens, they'd throw a handful of corn or two out in hopes of getting a "pet" deer that would come by regularly to eat and they could enjoy watching it. But Pete soon found by the tracks that varmints were eating his gift to the deer, not the deer.

So he started setting a live trap out, baited with corn. And each day he finds a coon in it. Different sizes and ages. Latest count is at twelve! That arises a whole new question of what to do with the scared, angry things. Contrary to opinion, all country rednecks do not eat coon. Pete could kill them, skin them and sell them. But that's just more work that would have to be done even on a bad day when you didn't feel up to it. And since he's not catching them in the act of disturbing eggs in the chicken coop, he can't bring himself to just blow them away and discard them.

That leaves him but one option, relocate them. Each day he brings the trap up the hill. The coon is given a bite of corn and a drink of water in their cozy accommodations. Then Pete or Bubba would load the trap in the back of the first truck headed away from here and release the perturbed creature in a new locale. Problems arose in that Pete rarely leaves the farm. And Bubba encountered his own problems. He'd take coons for rides to the feed store and back. Out on dates. And even into town to eat at Casa Ole. Then bring them straight back home.

Pete couldn't see tying up the trap long enough for these excursions. So, he began a new regime of he and Bug loading them up every evening after chores and driving them down the bottom of the hill and releasing them there. Bug's little pet, Blackie, rode along for the adventure and Pete soon found Blackie loved "escorting" the coons into their new tree-top accommodation. Sometimes they'd object to the first one she selected for them and come down. After some discussion, she'd direct them to another and stand watch until she felt sure they were settled.


Photobucket


Number twelve enjoyed a fire with us last night. He's basked in the sun today. Probably get his trip down the hill this evening. Good thing, too, as I am sure number thirteen wonders when he'll get to step into that box cage and begin his all expense paid tour.

On a more personal note;


God bless and keep you,

Barbara

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...