A little girl pig is a gilt until she has babies then she is a sow, a little boy pig starts out as a boar and becomes a barrow after his wee operation.
The Kitchens Garden Farmy officially has six barrows and 2 gilts. The barrows will sell for less than the gilts but are also used as show pigs. Though I will be keeping a few back for the freezer. Their ears are clipped with their registration numbers so when they sell they can be identified. 
We had more showers yesterday morning on my already soggy hay so I forked as much loose hay up into the truck as I could before my energy ran out and it (my energy and the hay) is on the barn floor and draped on the pen walls drying. I just could not bear to watch the rain hitting my precious hay and do nothing. Even four truckloads is a fair amount of feed saved. The rest we will bale loosely today of we get some drying time, store it outside under a tarp (in case of fire) and feed out straight away. Some we will haul up into the hayloft and I will cut the strings and let it spread out and dry up there also feeding out straight away.
The really good news is that after work John took all the information you gave him the other day about balers and scraped and cleaned and sprayed the string tie thingy, we took it out for a trial run and YAY! It worked. We baled 6 soggy unliftable bales and 5 of them knotted. Smiles all round. They were carried onto the concrete pad and I will probably use them as door stops and draft barriers! Hopefully today there will be some drying done and we can get to work. But there is rain coming in tomorrow for the week so today is the only day to clean up this field. It has to come off one way or the other.
The Lady Vet is visiting Queenie again today, with her bull in a straw. So if you have any fingers left to cross, please cross a couple for a successful outcome.
Boo was thrilled to discover that Minty and Meadow had escaped. Then was deeply disappointed when I called them and they followed me back into the field from whence they came with none of his wild herding skills required.
Sheila is on perpetual holiday now that she no longer hangs out with Charlotte. her chosen spot for yesterday was outside the chook house. She is hoping someone will lay her some breakfast!
I was watching the piglets play while the chickens scratched through their run doing some housekeeping and one of the little pigs made a cackling run at Son of Neanderthol Man from behind. The rooster shrieked and leapt into the air.
Of course Charlotte came roaring around the corner at the kerfuffle, 
scattering piglets in all directions, and saw the rooster off.
Good morning. As I was struggling with this wet hay yesterday, with the knowledge that I did not have enough gilts to sell, and the sheep got out, and the peahens eggs under the chickens had not hatched and I was facing the limitations of doing it alone, and how was I going to get these lambs to the abbatoir with John working all the time then a huge piece of wood fell on my wrist and it began to swell and pulse, blood running down onto the fork handle and I was losing two acres of hay to the bloody rain, and I should be weeding and mounding the potatoes – I felt like quitting. I threw down my pitching fork and put my hands to my face, blood running back up my arm and had a washing basket moment but instead of wet washing I sat in wet hay.
But you cannot just up sticks and quit. The food has to be brought in. The animals need a human. The human needs the animals. So. Whoever is in charge of the weather machine could you please turn the knobs to hot winds and open the valves shortly. And while you are at it turn OFF the thunderstorm warnings for the next six days. And withdraw the dense dark humid cloud cover that is above me. That would be nice. Thank you. I need some hay drying weather. The farmy needs sun.
And as I have said before. The wonderful thing about the morning is that we have a chance to do it over. The sun rises and we start anew. Every morning comes with a Good and a Chance. And I have been thinking in the night. A plan is coming to thwart the wet and save the hay. It must come. We have to get it in to dry it.
Have a lovely day.
Your soggy brained friend, celi.
The Kitchen's Garden 
74 responses to “Gilts and Barrows – Goods and Bads”
Buboolah, hugs and kisses for all your owies upon your wondrous self!
Oh! Dear! I am so sorry! The piece of wood is the straw I do believe. I am so glad John was able to get the tension right…always such an important thing on anything that sews…clothes or hay bales. Your photo of the rooster is amazing. I always seem to miss those exciting shots getting my finger down on the button just after the flight, so to speak.
Prayer for this heat and wind to find you!!!
Linda
http://coloradofarmlife.wordpress.com
Seems it is wet everywhere…we are only dealing with soggy lawns and mounds and mounds of washing that wont dry…not hay that wont dry. Hope your arm is ok lovely. Take care and I am sure today will be better….love love and more love coming your way…
C ~ you already know you are my hero. I am amazed at your stamina
in body , mind, and spirit ! This hay fiasco is laundry basket worthy…
We are all human.. when .enough is enough…it really IS !
Hang in !
You are made of strong stuff. You are woman “hear me roar …..” etc. etc. (Helen Reddy?) Things always happen for a reason so something unexpected will come out of this I feel sure. You have lots and lots of people supporting you in spirit and you know we would all be there to help in an instant if we were able. Joy
How did you ever catch that photo of the rooster? Amazing and wonderful as usual! Dang, though, I get exhausted just reading about your day. Wow… breathe…
I hope to God that knowing the ‘Fellowship of the Farmy’ is 100 % behind you and having been able to ‘talk it out’ somewhat rather than just scream at the skies, has eased the pressure to a degree . . .oh we all know that it never rains but pours! On a much lighter note, for goodness sake delegate – Boo would have got Minty and Meadow back 🙂 ! And your wrist comes first even if all else goes to hell! And you would rather have your weather radar than ours: a cyclonic depression to cross the coast just between us and Sydney overnight: nope, don’t have all that hay but do have a wonky roof!!!!!!! We too have seven days of flood rains promised . . .
I wonder is there a special clause in Murphy’s Law that pertains to hay making… what a bugger ;(
If you can find any sort of Arnica, take the tincture or pilules, or apply the cream where there is no broken skin to help with the bruising and recovery of your wrist.
I was about to ask where you are, but I see on your cast of characters page that you’re in Illinois. You could uproot and move here. We have plenty of hay drying weather as we’ve been in a drought for several years. Seems like it’s always one or the other.
I hope things dry out for you! You must have been in the perfect place at the perfect time for the shot of that rooster in the air! lol
Oh what a rotten time you’ve had. But this is all part of a life lived at the mercy of the elements. May they be merciful now. You did such a heroic effort bringing in what you could of the hay. I would have done the same.
Oh, Celi. So sorry you’re having such a bad time of it right now. You’ve never wrote words more true than those of your last paragraph. “Every morning comes with a Good and a Chance.” I hope your morning is filled with Good.
Oh celi, a a blog full of your usual courage and determination, and then the heartbreak – do hope you are looking after your wrist.. so sorry about the hay, and not enough gilts and all the rest…one by one each problem will resolve, and the burden seem lighter…Hope all our collective hopes and energy reach you and support you….
i really hope it gets better again, the hay weather, the wrist, the eggs… everything. a lot of hugs and sun from burning hot tel aviv.
Our Blue Heeler/cross used to occasionally be loose when there was a rabbit about, and he couldn’t help himself but chase after it. One day I noticed as he got very close, that he hung back just a bit. It was then I realised his ‘wild herding instincts’ were calling and all he wanted to do was herd the rabbits, not catch them! Sending love and good energies.