tiny farm vignette
Apr. 25th, 2019 12:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7via http://bit.ly/2IIcN8Z
working with Farmsister in the patch of the garden that’s going to be flowers this coming year. tw gross animal husbandry vulgarity to follow, jsyk.
the scene and setting: the “garden” is the level-ish field at the bottom of the hill between the two creeks, with the barn and barnyard on one side, and the steep rise that goes up to the old cattle pasture on the other; it’s a rectangle and has uhhh like an acre (wild guess) of area, and is where they have grown most of the vegetables for most of this farm’s existence. The greenhouse is along one edge, and then the farm road goes along it and the yurt is just on the other side of the farm road.
Past the farm road and the little chunk of ground where the yurt is, is the creek, and then on the other side of the creek is the new barn, where the hogs and chickens currently are. Arthur the boar is now barred from entering the barn, because it’s given over to the sows and the babies; he doesn’t particularly care to go indoors anyway, and now that it’s warm, probably never would have anyway. His water and food are under the eaves of the barn, and he’s happy enough out there. Soon he’ll be moved farther out onto pasture so he’ll get fresh stuff to dig up, and he’ll have a lovely summer ahead of him, and when the piglets are weaned, the ladies will rejoin him and he’ll be even happier. Bro lives a good life, y’know?
In the meantime.
Sister and I were laying out the garden beds by staking down landscape fabric to define the walkways between beds.
Suddenly, a strong scent hit me, and I stood up frowning. It smelled like– nasty weed, like someone was smoking absolutely the dankest, nastiest, garbage weed. But definitely weed.
“What the fuck,” I said, “that is the grossest weed I’ve ever smelled.”
Farmsister looked up laughing from where she was dealing with a bent ground staple. “That’s not weed,” she said.
I sniffed deeper, grossed-out. “That’s absolutely weed,” I said.
“That’s Arthur,” she said. “The boar.”
“Smoking weed?” I asked, because I could not understand what on earth she meant.
“That’s what boar semen smells like,” she said. “He just ejaculated on something.” (There’s my Did U Kno PSA for the day: boars jack off on anything they can manage to, all the time, sometimes involving a sow but often not. We know of one prized pedigree breeding boar who had to eventually be retired to sausage because he exclusively liked to hump the wrong ends of sows. How does one jack off without hands? You just fuck things, that’s what you do. Boars: they just Fuck Things. It’s repulsive and also hilarious.)
“Oh my god,” I said.
“I’m glad you agree with me,” she said. “[BIL] and [VegMan] think I’m crazy for thinking it smells like weed.”
“He’s like… two hundred feet away,” I said.
“Oh yes,” she said. “Boars are disgusting.”
(Your picture was not posted)
working with Farmsister in the patch of the garden that’s going to be flowers this coming year. tw gross animal husbandry vulgarity to follow, jsyk.
the scene and setting: the “garden” is the level-ish field at the bottom of the hill between the two creeks, with the barn and barnyard on one side, and the steep rise that goes up to the old cattle pasture on the other; it’s a rectangle and has uhhh like an acre (wild guess) of area, and is where they have grown most of the vegetables for most of this farm’s existence. The greenhouse is along one edge, and then the farm road goes along it and the yurt is just on the other side of the farm road.
Past the farm road and the little chunk of ground where the yurt is, is the creek, and then on the other side of the creek is the new barn, where the hogs and chickens currently are. Arthur the boar is now barred from entering the barn, because it’s given over to the sows and the babies; he doesn’t particularly care to go indoors anyway, and now that it’s warm, probably never would have anyway. His water and food are under the eaves of the barn, and he’s happy enough out there. Soon he’ll be moved farther out onto pasture so he’ll get fresh stuff to dig up, and he’ll have a lovely summer ahead of him, and when the piglets are weaned, the ladies will rejoin him and he’ll be even happier. Bro lives a good life, y’know?
In the meantime.
Sister and I were laying out the garden beds by staking down landscape fabric to define the walkways between beds.
Suddenly, a strong scent hit me, and I stood up frowning. It smelled like– nasty weed, like someone was smoking absolutely the dankest, nastiest, garbage weed. But definitely weed.
“What the fuck,” I said, “that is the grossest weed I’ve ever smelled.”
Farmsister looked up laughing from where she was dealing with a bent ground staple. “That’s not weed,” she said.
I sniffed deeper, grossed-out. “That’s absolutely weed,” I said.
“That’s Arthur,” she said. “The boar.”
“Smoking weed?” I asked, because I could not understand what on earth she meant.
“That’s what boar semen smells like,” she said. “He just ejaculated on something.” (There’s my Did U Kno PSA for the day: boars jack off on anything they can manage to, all the time, sometimes involving a sow but often not. We know of one prized pedigree breeding boar who had to eventually be retired to sausage because he exclusively liked to hump the wrong ends of sows. How does one jack off without hands? You just fuck things, that’s what you do. Boars: they just Fuck Things. It’s repulsive and also hilarious.)
“Oh my god,” I said.
“I’m glad you agree with me,” she said. “[BIL] and [VegMan] think I’m crazy for thinking it smells like weed.”
“He’s like… two hundred feet away,” I said.
“Oh yes,” she said. “Boars are disgusting.”
(Your picture was not posted)
no subject
Date: 2019-04-25 12:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-04-25 12:54 pm (UTC)At least it's not a visual.
My sister gets more and more misandrist by the season, it's really funny. The male employees are like "listen, I don't do that!" and she's like "mmm yeah ok". All males are kind of gross, it's inescapable.
no subject
Date: 2019-04-25 01:01 pm (UTC)You did! *g*
no subject
Date: 2019-04-27 05:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-04-29 01:28 pm (UTC)