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A rare moment when Number Nine is not in spastic motion.
Sausage and Patty packed their bags and made the trip to their new pig pen in the meadow bottom this weekend.

They went down in a cat carrier, one at a time. 52′s original suggestion was that he stick them in the back of his truck and that I climb in there with them. I don’t think so. I think he was just kidding, but I’m not sure. He wanted to live, so he wrangled them while I took pictures.
Patty, in a contemplative moment.

The old pen was then scraped out using the tractor and returned to its former goat annex glory. (The goats love to sit in a dog house in there.) Clover wanted to drive the tractor.

She’s such a farm girl.
The pigs moved into a lovely brand new pen in the middle pasture of the meadow bottom. It sits near the creek (for easy water-scooping to fill their bowl) and is shaded by the trees to keep them cool. It’s built on a high spot so it will stay dry.

The pen is made of extra-large pallets. Wire around the bottom and up the sides prevents them from rooting out.

Soon they’ll be big enough that they won’t be able to escape from under the pasture gates and we’ll let them free-range (at least part-time). I don’t like to keep animals in confined spaces. They just look healthier (and happier) when they can get out in the fresh air and fresh grass.
The first idea had been to use this large concrete slab that sits nearby.

The slab was here when we got here and we’ve been told it was used in the past for a pig pen. However, my barn dream made its siren call and this 24 foot by 24 foot slab is now destined to be a barn foundation.

I want a barn built from wood, not one of those modern aluminum structures I see quite often.

I want a barn that looks old from the beginning, as if it was always here. I want to paint a quilt square to mount on it.

I love old barns.

The older, the better.

I want one.
Sorry, piggies.
Posted by Suzanne McMinn | Permalink
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