"So many UGH moments," I said back.

"Do you think this is normal?" I asked JB.

"What?" he asked in reply.

"So many UGH moments," I said back. 

"Ugh?"

"So many moments of like seriously? Did that really just happen?"

"It's normal for farmers," He said in reply. "We are dealing with big equipment and animals. Our odds of having these moments goes up I would say."

I'd say he's right.

This past week "the guys" (meaning JB, Grampa, and Tijmen) took turns bringing the last of our pigs to be butchered. We went from having over two dozen pigs about three months ago, to now, officially, having zero. 

Seeing them through the trailer we borrowed from Mr. Billy filled me with such a wide array of emotions. I don't like seeing an animal die. I really don't. And yet, I know it is part of the circle of life and part of the type of farming we are doing. (I've also learned, ironically enough from a vegetarian that stayed on our farm that not eating meat doesn't solve the problems of the land. In fact, in order to raise another food to feed people without meat, entire habitats must die to make room for these vegetables ... but I digress ...) 

I also felt incredible "relief." JB works off the farm FULL-time. This means that when we don't have a volunteer here, the pig work falls primarily on me. And I don't enjoy the pigs. They don't bring me joy. And life is too short to spend time doing things that don't bring you joy if you don't have to. 

So for about two months now, we've been slowly getting our pigs processed and seeing them leave our farm. This includes "Mama" pigs that we really thought would be with us for years.

Our last two pigs leaving our farm.

We had made the decision a few months back to stop doing pigs at the Bauernhof. It was a hard decision. We love our pigs. We love what they do for our land. But they are expensive and the hardest animal to manage on the farm both in actually handling the animal and the time involved in caring for them. We knew it was the right move. And yet making the move is hard.

The truck pulling into the processor.

However, this is where the drama comes in. Taking the pigs to the processor went fine. Plan A went off with ta hitch. But returning home? Not so much. Dad called us to tell us that Mr. Billy's trailer (we still haven't purchased our own trailer on the farm yet) went flying off the truck and into a ditch on his way home. Check it out (thanks to some photos Mr. Tijmen snapped): 

Believe it or not, the trailer had very little damage. We truly were blessed that Dad and Mom in the truck or someone driving near them wasn't injured in this accident. And then we got a double gift when the trailer was towed out with next-to-no damage.

I can't say the same for the dog's outside kennel gate. Shortly after dealing with the cacophony of pig trailers, check out what Ritter managed to do. We were eating dinner at Grampa and Grama's house, and I told the kids to stay outside so the flies didn't keep getting in and Sidge disobeyed to come in but it was important. Ritter was running around the yard out of his kennel. 

That darn lug of a dog managed to tear the whole gate straight off the brick wall. Seriously? 

Farming is HARD. The more land and things you own and are taking care of, the more possibilities there are for things to not go quite as planned. I am just not sure I will ever get completely used to that fact. I'm trying. But it's exhausting. 

I have written past posts about how "the best laid plans" are sort of pointless: 

• A farming example of the best laid plans
• The Plan "B"

For now I'll just keep on keepin' on: