Recently, Aaron and I had one of our city folk friends over for some BBQ and other assorted victuals. After some quality chit chattin' we decided to take her and her daughter on a mini-tour of the farm.
Down the deserted black top, past the old white church...
Beyond the big barn...
We arrive at the hog house.
She had to take pictures and text them to her husband...."Look where I am, Honey..."
This is Denise and the short blond is her daughter Alli. Shortly after arriving we ventured into the barn to show them the ins and outs of piggin'. She was thrilled but her daughter was very disappointed that they were not little teacup piglets. Nope, these are 100 pound snouts.
"Hey, what's up?"
My dear friend Denise has a thing for pig snouts. She can't get enough of them. She had to rub every snout that came up to sniff her dainty little hand. With a giggle and a smile she rubbed snouts until we finally cut her off. Enough is enough.
My big farmer man explained how we care for the pigs....oh, and my husband did some explaining too.
Needless to say, Alli prefers teacup piglets to 100 pound snouts and wanted no part of her mother's snout rubbing fetish.
The Pooboy taught his new friend a thing or two about pigs. "Yep, I help my dad with these pigs. I'm a farmer."
The explanation grows intense.
After we toured both inside and out, after all the questions were answered, after all the snouts were rubbed away we drove. Home again, home again, jiggety jog.
I hope we haven't scared them off with our country ways. I'm sure Denise will be back but Alli's thoughts on the whole farming/country business thing is still in question. Pooboy plays hard and I'm hoping he didn't rough up Alli too much. He isn't use to little girls.
Have you ever been on a farm tour? I'd love to hear about it.