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Our First Pig Slaughter

Well, we did it.

For those of you that harbored doubts about our ability to actually butcher our first pig, you can put those thoughts to rest.

This past weekend Ian, with the help of our pastor and professional butcher nephew along with a crew of middle school girls, humanely slaughtered Mr. Cris P. Bacon. After hours of effort we now have a full freezer of the freshest pork possible.

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Pets vs. Livestock: The Paradoxes of Farm Animal Ownership

For the past few weeks on our property we’ve had a chicken with a phlegmy, body-wracking cough and a chronically limping dog.

Poor Wendell has been on three different vet visits and undergone multiple x-rays of his stiff leg. Some were taken while he was unconscious from heavy-duty (and costly) anesthetics, all to see if he was a candidate for an eye-wateringly expensive reconstructive surgery to remove cartilage from his shoulder.

The chicken? She’s in the compost pile.

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Our Pallet Pig Pen: Best Tips for Success

Shipping pallets are a popular building material right now. Just look on Pinterest and you’ll see plenty of pallet crafts and DIY projects. With a little internet browsing, you can find everything from cute pallet coffee tables to fully functional kitchen shelves.

But a pallet pig pen? That’s probably the only pallet project capable of exciting Ian.

Surprisingly enough, Ian does occasionally venture into┬áthe visual world of Pinterest, and when he saw photos of pallet pig pens online there was no going back. For the past five months, he’s been scheming ways to acquire enough pallets to tackle this project, and a few weeks ago he made it a reality.

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Christmas Bacon in the Flesh: Our New Pig!

Never a dull moment at the Knob House.

Just as I was settling in for a cozy Saturday morning of ebook writing work, Ian launched himself up our stairs two at a time, stopping only to catch his breath before telling me the simple phrase we both know is most likely to elicit a positive response.

“I’ve got some new content for your blog!”

And so he did. While my Saturday morning had me comfortable in my work chair, Ian had ambled himself over to the neighbor’s property, only to discover that the young pigs he had been raising were officially weaned, wormed and ready to be re-homed.

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