It's been an interesting week. In between visits to the hospital and lying around tripped out on painkillers, I went to view an agricultural smallholding - a friend and former business colleague is looking at getting into pig farming. It's probably not the best time to be thinking about such things, but he has time on his hands and money in his pocket (I helped him sell his previous business last year).
He's looking at raising "happy pork" - free range, organic, rare-breeds (most likely Middle White's rather than the increasingly ubiquitous Gloucester Old Spot) and I have to say it's an interesting project. I've never thought of myself as a pig person but if he goes ahead with it, I might occasionally get involved on a day to day basis.
The boy's are excited about the idea - unlike me, they eat pork. So the prospect of having a ready supply of pigs on the doorstep appeals to them. Of course they also like the idea of looking after animals and are keen on giving the pigs names. Though, like my friend said, "You can't give them names. You'd never eat them if you gave them names." And that from a man who's a qualified master butcher!
