I notice from my regular peripatetic perusal of other peoples' farm blogs that it is also hog butchering season in Oregon and Missouri.
While homesteaders in Aberdeen, Raasay, and southern England are not yet engaged in this occupation, or haven't yet experienced the pig experience.
Although the butchering makes me miserable, the aftermath makes me glad. Bacon, chops, sausage, pork roast, ham, and fatback for lard and baked beans. "There's a whole world more to a pig than ham" said Renee Zellwiger's character Ruby, in the movie and novel Cold Mountain.
And there is. And we have it. This is the bacon bonanza season at Womerlippi acres. One pig is home already, one is yet to come, but we are already porked up to the gills.
We give some away and we trade off some, but we also keep some for me and our guests to eat. My wife, although raised on Pennsylvania and Shenandoah Valley German Pietist pork products (the finest kind), eschews meat still. She's vegetarian less by conviction and more out of shear cussedness. She turned that way to spite her parents when she was a teen, and stayed mostly out of stubbornness.
Being British to the core, I appreciate this stubborn trait in her, and do my best to eat her share. It's only fair I should pitch in.