Listening to: Crying Shame (Jack Johnson)
Reading: Scottish Farmer small ads (Marcus says I need a tractor and who am I to argue?)
The house smells of: coffee and fresh bread (no, I'm not selling)
Going: out tonight
This may be just me, but do you remember Sunday dinner/lunch when you were a child? Remember how, when you were very young, you ate all the stuff you really liked first before getting onto the cabbage, cauliflower and suchlike.
Then, when you were a little older and smarter, you realised the pleasure could be prolonged if you kicked off in broccoli country, moved up carrot avenue before getting to meat and spud heaven. I still do it to a tiny degree, making sure the last mouthful is meat, roast potato or (if applicable) Yorkshire.
I'm not sure if it applies to pigs, but I've just spent a happy 20 minutes watching Eric and a much-improved Ernie plough their way through their tea. For a change, I added to their pan of potatoes a scoop of barley, a scoop of pig 'pencils' and a couple of apples that had been hanging around the fruit bowl for a couple of weeks (I don't know why I bought them, I only like cox or russets, these tasted like cotton wool).
Eric and Ernie took little notice of the extra effort I had gone to on their behalf and got stuck in at once. However, I noticed they snuffled up the pencils first, then the potatoes before moving on to the barley. The apples were left on one side, perhaps they are still pushing them around now. Next time maybe they'll eat them first.
On reflection, it wasn't that sensitive to give apples to pigs.
Next week: Malc feeds cranberries to turkeys.