Farm life

Why do you want to read my blog?

Well for starters I might talk about you. You should keep up with what I am telling the internet about you.

Secondly you never know when I will post pictures of Poop, and you wouldn't want to miss out on something that fun.

That is Me, JWJS and Poopoutside. JWJS is all grown up and stationed in Japan. Poopoutside is happily living in where ever pigs go when they die. No doubt with a hug smile on his face after living a good life and escaping baconage.

I know you are wondering how such a fine hog ended up with the name Poopoutside. Hearing this story should give you all a very clear idea of what a truly insane person I am. Just in case you ever got plans to make me normal. I am too far gone.

When KSS was 3 and being potty trained Grandma set her potty chair outside on the porch. K would sit on it and watch the farm going ons. After many days and many tries and no success, grandma and I were so excited when she opened the door and shouted "I POOPEDOUTSIDE!"

We ran to marvel and her doings. We got to the door just in time to see TJ the doberman eat the turd.

K screamed "I POOPED OUTSIDE AND TJ ATE IT!!" and burst into tears.

Grandma and I laughed so hard we thought we were going to die.

Two days later at Abbey's having pizza K had followed me up to the counter and then since she was still walking slow in her AFOs I beat her back to the table. Grandma and I watched her slowly make her way down the isle. She stopped at each table and talked to everyone. We wondered what she was telling them. When she was two tables away from us we could make it out.

"I pooped outside and TJ ate it." she would tell them and them give them her famous smile, and head to the next table.

Oh K, oh how you made me laugh.

Being the kind of people we were Grandma and I ran that phrase into the ground endlessly for weeks.We leveled ourselves into giggling puddles by finding any excuse to wedge "I pooped outside and TJ ate it." in to the conversation.

So naturally when the scrawny runt pig came into my possession and Grandma asked what I was going to call him I said in all seriousness. "I'm going to call him Poopoutside."

Over his life his name got shortened down to Poopside, and then finally just Poop.

He was as funny as his name. I enjoyed him. One of my favorite memories was when the vacant land next to our farm was for sale. Poop's pen bordered that area. I had awoken late that morning and jumped out of bed to do chores. It was a beautiful sunny morning so I stepped into my farm boot and headed out in my birthday suit.

I got his food and went to his pen. "POOP!" I hollered. He was sleeping with his back to me. Since pigs are hard of hearing I screamed on the top of my lungs "HEY POOP OUTSIDE!!!" and banged the bucket against the fence post.

That is when everything swam into focus and I noticed the Realtor and a group of people in the next field. They were all looking at me like I was insane. They had a clear view of me but not my pig as he was in a wallow shallow.

Trying to clarify the situation I specified who I was calling to. "HEY YOU! YOU BIG PIG POOOOOOP!!!!"

This didn't help the situation. Apparently alarmed by the sight of a naked obscenity hollering woman the prospective buyers fled.

I am not sure why it took them so long to sell that land.