Quite a bizarre day we’ve had on the farm today, one that’s brought a light heartedness to life.
Last Sunday evening our dear old pig Dina gave birth to our record litter of thirteen piglets. Nothing too unusual about that, but these piglets were not planned.
During the summer we had made a difficult decision to stop breeding pigs due to the difficulties with shipping and the economics of it all. Dina, however, had other ideas and managed to jump out of her pen, trot some quarter of a mile or so and jump into the boars pen for one last night of passion.
After Graham had put this story on Facebook we have been inundated with press enquiries. Graham has retold the story on BBC Cornwall and this evening it is appearing on the South West news.
It’s made a lot of people chuckle. Meanwhile Dina and the babies are oblivious to their fame and continue to feed and sleep and feed and sleep and so on.
Sometimes as an adult in today’s world it can feel as if the responsibility for everything lays upon your shoulders. Not only do we have the responsibility of bringing up our children as best we can, keeping a roof over our heads and food on the table, but the planet is in crisis, politics is in crisis. There’s too much plastic, too much waste, too much social media and we all have to strive for the perfect life, health, body and mind.
Or this is how it can sometimes feel.
For sure we can all do our bit to help our world around us be as good as we can make it but once in a while it’s just good to have a laugh, have fun.
Be a child again, be a little wild and play.
Ruthie and I feel in the mood for a whooping fun swim so with high tide approaching we march on down to the quay.
We launch ourselves into the water with flying star jumps (Note to self…dont whoop as you enter the water). When we surface, great giggling, beaming smiles and whoops of freedom bring on a sense of elation.
Here we go!
We swim out into the bay a little. Then turn, it’s about 4:30 and the daylight is darkening quickly. Behind us the island is beginning to light with windows and fires puff gentle spires of smoke. From the chill of the water the island feels cosy and loved.
We dive down to where there is no noise and barely any light, before bursting through a surface of choppy, windswept water into the pale dusk sky.
In an attempt to avoid leaving our watery play park, we stay in the swell of the waves as they break over the quay. I try to capture the colour of the water in my mind but it seems impossible. It is green, grey, blue, silver, gold and clear all at the same time. All I know is that it is beautiful, mesmerising and fun.
In all the serious of life here’s to a little bit of fun!