Easy like Monday morning? (452 days to go)
by Max Akroyd
It never goes you know. That feeling of Monday morning gloom has receded a bit, but it’s still there despite the fact that I have no job. Just as I could happily smoke a cigarette, right now, ten years after giving up if you offered me one (please don’t) – I’m seemingly pre-programmed to dread this morning.
Big, fat, lazy and permanently expecting that I’ll clear up after her… but enough about my old boss. There’s a bunch of porkers in charge now and Monday morning is major clean out time. Because they occupy such large barns I can get away with mucking them out on a three day cycle, but every Monday there’s a deep clean required. Not a delightful prospect, but once you’re in the swing of it, not too bad. And the barrow loads of old litter make splendid compost.
Now it’s done and the real work can commence!
The extra space available in an old farm like ours really brings out that male trait of seeing a ‘that might be useful later’ quality in complete junk. This habit doesn’t sit well with the requirement to squeeze productivity out of every corner of the farm if you’re to escape destitution.
This corner of the hangar has acted as one of many junk repositories around the place, but is now ear-marked for the daddy pigs’ summer quarters. Time to tidy up!
There’s a rudimentary pig-bed area taking shape, formed – it has to be said – completely out of the aforementioned junk. Once they’re installed in this area, the four piglets we’re keeping can have the daddy pigs’ old quarters. The baby pigs are recovering from the indignities of their recent relocation and they’re getting decidedly cheeky…
Despite an hour spent trying to get rid of double-glazing salesman, there was still time to sow the last of the broad beans: