I have already regaled you with the amorous advances of the boar from across the field so, you can imagine my surprise and chagrin when I looked from my kitchen window and spotted half a dozen small black piglets prancing, yes, prancing about in the pig paddock!
Had they mysteriously teleported in from another dimension or was it just that our dear neighbour has carelessly left his gate open yet again and the latest bevvy of piglets had made a run for it!
I fear it was the latter.
The usual routine is that the pigs from the farm opposite wander across their field before making daring incursions through our gates, which are now normally closed in an attempt to keep them at bay, to wallow in the pond, positively skipping into the water amidst snuffling and grunting as they terrify the terrapins, scatter the moorhens and frighten the frogs.
Wallowing pigs are, not in themselves a problem, but how did a bevvy of babies make it into the pig pen rather than to the pond?
Husband strode down to the pig pen with a serious look on his face and a crumpled brow… Oh! There was Mum too! So, we had the entire family frolicking with Bangers and Mash.
And so I endeavoured to coax Mum and her babies out through the gate with copious handfuls of pig nuts. But inevitably, as soon as you think you have made a safe job of it, a splinter group spots something more interesting to eat on the other side of the paddock and off they all sprint with other splinter groups disappearing in a variety of directions. If ladies ‘glow’ rather than sweat then I was doing a lot of 'glowing' by the time they were finally corralled and the gate firmly shut.
The fence was summarily checked, posts were found, staples hammered in to secure the netting and thumbs whacked in the process: it really went from Insult to Injury!