Were you wondering just how long it would be before the fifth force of nature that is seventeen fast growing piglets broke out and caused havoc? Yes, I admit it did cross my mind too. At which point I neatly filed it away in my mental ‘to do’ pile, while simultaneously knowing full well that the next time I thought about it, it would be too late.
Today was the next time.
I can guarantee that you have never seen two humans move so fast as when as when a tornado of orange piglets are sighted bolting past the kitchen door. We looked at each other, and with looks of abject horror shouted in unison, “the V-E-E-GETABLE G-A-A-A-ARDEN”. There may also have been the odd howl of “N-O-OOOOOO!” as we flew out to…well, to do something. This is all you can really hope for when dealing with pigs.
On the way out I promised myself that I would accept whatever I saw with grace and humour – after all, what’s done is done. And I tried, but I also cried (very gracefully).
Three rows of young garlic had been ploughed up, all the young leeks (a row of about 50), a whole row of just germinated leek seedlings (are you detecting a theme here?) and some of the onions. At least many of the garlic plants were undamaged, just flung around, and I was able to replant these. The purple sprouting broccoli, young plants of which I was particularly proud, were completely gone, along with about a third of those amazing black radishes (just germinated) I mentioned a few weeks ago. It sounds bad, but it could have been much, much worse, so a few hours later I can (almost) laugh about it. I stress the almost.
This is the first time that pigs have ever found their way into the vegie garden – we had underestimated just how flat a piglet could flatten themselves if they really had a taste for leeks – and it will be the last. Tomorrow a new fence goes in, and, well, replanting will be done. The lunar calendar says fertile moon, I say fancy a spit roast?