Some even naughty...
The other night at a party was quite informative on this subject. We were discussing the merits of living in the country and the fact that we could all be potential mini farmers. It is funny how most of us are talking about this return to the life of yore. All the upheaval in parts of the world has brought it about.
A lot of the men here might have jobs in the big city that don't at all resemble what their parents did, but the itch to farm is in their blood.
The weekend farmerNaturally they remember the hard work that being a farmer entails but then they earn enough to buy a couple of toys for themselves....a high tech tractor ( with power steering, WiFi & aircon...mini-fridge? ) and so forth turns a spot of ploughing into a nice escape from domesticity and a nagging wife. Bob would love that too!
The subject of keeping pigs came up. It must be fun to rear them and aren't they notorious for eating left-over food, but who would kill this pig? Well, that's when I was blindsided with mental images of the pig slaughtering business. Men do take delight in painting a detailed colourful picture of any squeamish business. It gives them a thrill to see us shudder ( at least I did ).
And you know, just like in that iconic movie Crocodile Dundee and his unforgettable line
" That's not a knife...That's a knife "the stories of how they helped their father slaughter pigs grew in stature and goriness. As the one guy was telling me a particular ' interesting ' pig-story his eyes shone with memories of being a boy on the farm. Even though Bob grew up in the city, he made sure to contribute a particular yukky story of when he was in forestry. It was so yukky, that I think he won in the stakes of the pig-slaughtering stories...
Yes, it might not be the in thing to talk about slaughtering pigs, but I think if you know where your food comes from, you show more respect for it. Obviously being a vegetarian is the best option for animals, but if you do eat meat, then just popping into your local supermarket and buying a pre-packed sliced ham removes you from the reality of it.
How often have you throw away sliced ham because you forgot it was there?