The joy of … Spring (437)

by Max Akroyd

Spring is definitely in the air at Kervéguen.

The hitherto shy and retiring ducks were engaged in an act of public indecency when I strolled down to feed the pigs this morning. Which is fine: I want ducklings. “Go on my son” etc.

In contrast, and to my dismay, on entering the hangar I noticed the cow stall, which should have contained the last remaining boy piglet, was empty… somehow he’d managed to squeeze himself through the gate which supposedly separates him from his sisters and big pig, and he had been enjoying full use of the harem all night. I can’t get over the contortions he must have gone through to reach the promised land.  He’d already been christened M. P______ (insert worst French swear word I know) for being consistently annoying, but this was a new level of mischief.

I do not want more piglets! Big pig appears to be in season at present, but hopefully the ridiculously vast size differential between them has prevented the nightmare scenario coming to pass. But I won’t know for sure until July. I’ll be pleased to see the back of him tomorrow, little so and so, but I confess he’s earned my grudging respect!

Having evicted Mr P. and added another layer of mesh to the gate, I escaped to the field to plant the last of the raspberry canes. Job done – hopefully for six years or so.

I then planted twenty metres of Jerusalem artichokes in a double row. This should make a formidable windbreak, but as I made my way down the row I increasingly questioned what I was going to do with the potentially huge crop. Sure it’s a good fallback self-sufficiency-wise, but I don’t want 2011 to be my year of flatulence. (Besides, as my wife would slanderously suggest, this would make it just like any other year…).

The distant sight of big pig gave me an idea. And I can confirm that pigs like Jerusalem artichokes – although that might just be her post-coital appetite talking…