THIS LITTLE PIGGY

TO MARKET TO MARKET
“It’s all because some lazy bugger couldn’t be bothered to take the bread out of the bags.” Tony has spoken. I have just asked the question about how the meat crisis came about to Tony, a self-sufficient guru from Leitrim. “The feed processing plant must have chucked everything into their vats and plastic bread wrappers allegedly went into the mix too. These carcinogenic chemicals have been passed on to the animals and in turn to us”, he explains with authority.

Tony has been growing his own for years, and not just vegetables. His three-acre small holding where we are walking around on a bright winters day is home to an array of animals, pigs, chickens, goats and they are all in some way destined for the dining room table. “Pigs are fantastic recyclers.” Tony is telling me. “They will eat anything, and I mean ANYTHING… but unlike a cow, the pig only has one stomach, which makes processing things such as old plastic bags a bit more difficult.”

BACON SANDWICH
Tony is a bit of a one for conspiracy theories and feels that the scare is just the tip of the iceberg. “It’s my opinion that the whole thing is just a ruse to get Ireland into signing the Lisbon Treaty. We are heading towards a one government world…..” I thought Tony was going into one of his rants but he takes a second and sighs. “If you listen to all of the theories it will drive you mad. You would be painting up the sandwich boards with slogans about the end of the world and parading yourself up and down the high street.”

Tony did the parading up and down the street thing for a while and still has a lot of conspiracy theories. He has yet to be proved wrong, mainly because most of them are about aliens, but has decided to spend his time being productive in the garden as he feels he should be part of the solution and not part of the problem.

“Pig farmers might need to pass on their stock if they can’t sell them on, it’s a perfect time to call in to the farm and get a hold of a little porker to bring home. Chickens can be picked up for 50cent after their productive laying life has finished and after some r and r they still give you a bumper batch of eggs too.” I think he is being a bit flippant about the whole situation but I don’t challenge him, I am more intrigued to know just how practical it would be to have a little Babe running around the garden, so I ask Tony how would you go about it.

WHAT’S IN A NAME
Pigs like to be together so get two or more so they can keep each other company” he begins. “If you want one as a pet, just a word of warning… they get very big very quickly. A friend of mine had a pet pig but had to put it down when it bit the butcher, (it’s a long story….) and she couldn’t eat a bite she was so upset. Basically if you are keeping pigs for food DON’T give them a name, or you’ll never sit down to a lovely roast pork.”

“How much room does a pig need, would you be able to put one in a town garden?” I ask. “Generally each pig will need at least 150square metres to run about in, so a smallish garden would do if you could stand the mess. They need to be kept secure as they can get out of the tightest spot, you wouldn’t want to be upsetting the neighbours now. I even found some of mine taking on an electric fence once, they wouldn’t back down and I had to switch the power off in the end, they can be very stubborn sometimes. If you do electrify a fence start when they are piglets so they get wary of them instead of thinking they can win in a fight,” he continues.

A ROOTING AND A SNUFFLING
“Do they help the garden at all?” I ask. “Well, they do a lot of rooting and snuffling so don’t expect any grass or flowerbeds. They are great for clearing areas and fertilising, but like all crop rotation, don’t leave them on one piece of ground for more than two years,” Tony advises knowledgeably. It’s funny for me to think of the pigs as a crop, but I guess that is what they would be.

“Are there different types of pigs you can get? I know of someone in Fahan who has pot bellied pigs but they are pets.” I say as we head towards the heated shed where Tony is breeding one of his sows.

“ There are different types of piggies.” Tony tells me “Berkshires, Tamworth’s and Middle Whites, they are the fastest growing ones. They all like mud but contrary to popular belief are quite clean animals. Did you know they have different names for different sizes? Tony asks me. I didn’t. “Go on.” I prompt,

“There are the Porkies weighing in at 60-75 kg. Then cutters at 76-85 kg and the Baconers at 86-104kg. They grow very quickly and sometimes it’s only a matter of weeks before they are at the Porkies stage.” Tony points to his pens. “ I made those out of sheets of corrugated iron and pallets. The pigs love them and they are easily moved around.”

“What will I feed them if I decide to invest in a couple?” I ask.

“Now there’s a question, feed them all of you scraps and certified feed, check out the DEFRA site, whatever you decide on, make sure you take it out of the wrapper first…”

NEW ADDITION

NEW ADDITION TO THE HOUSEHOLD
We’re off to get our Christmas tree. As usual my theories about how synthetic trees are better for the environment have been ignored and it’s time to venture out to get a sticky, needle-dropping specimen. I still think that keeping a plastic tree for fifty years and bringing it down from the attic at Christmas will use less energy that lumping the dismembered tree from the woods. “It hasn’t got that pine smell” my family tell me. You can get that pine fresh smell out of a bottle of disinfectant if that’s all it is. “No you can’t and we are getting a real tree.” Didn’t there used to be a time when a man was head of the family? But there are some arguments when it is better to go with the majority and as it is the season of peace and good will I may as well go with the flow.

So my job now is to protect the car. First job is to put down a rug to catch stray needles. Unfortunately the dog thinks this warm and dry blanket is for her and sits on it as I am trying to straighten it out in the boot. She usually sits in the foot well in the front but has decided to spread out in the back.

KEEP IT LOCAL
I have been talking a lot about supporting local businesses this Christmas and I think it’s important to keep the money in the community, so home grown trees from local growers are a great way to keep the money circulating around Inishowen.

It has taken us no time at all to get to the farm. Trees cut today lay on the side of the laneway going up to the farm. There is a wide selection of different types. It’s an impressive site as they are of a very uniform shape. We usually don’t buy a tree until the last day before everyone goes home for the holidays, this year we are on the ball and I can see why people shop for them early. It’s been a good crop with the looks of it.

YOU CHOOSE
I let the family choose the tree every year. I can never find one that is as uniform as a plastic one but that doesn’t seem to be the priority to the three Christmas tree critics as they weigh up the needles and branches. We are not alone. “You can feel if a tree is the right one for you.” I hear someone say just down from us. “You form a connection with it,” their friend agrees. My way of connecting is pushing the plug into the wall to light up the fibre optics, but hey, I thought, let’s get into the festive mood.

“Is it a bit early to be buying trees?” I ask the girl whose job it is to cram the trees into the boots of cars and use the green webbing gadget.

“You will be surprised how long a cut tree will last with a bit of care,” she tells me. “When you buy a tree make sure it stands in water, ideally cut off a couple of centimetres before you either put it in a watertight bucket filled with sand and water, or you can buy good stands that hold water.” She continues as she effortlessly pushes the tree through th tube to get it neatly packaged with nylon webbing.

“ Mine usually shed their leaves all over the front room carpet after a week” I say, trying to sound chirpy. “We have one of those water container stands, they’re very good, I’ll go and get it”. She disappears leaving the lads and me alone with a rather interesting piece of bailing machinery. It doesn’t take long before I have fathomed out how the tree-wrapping machine works and the lads have demonstrated first hand how you can get yourself wrapped up like a Christmas tree, having imitated the procedure and gone through the tunnel and out of the other end.

We just manage to compose ourselves in time for Jane to come back with the stand. “You can have it for €10 if you like” she says happily. I give it the once over. It’s not bad, strong grippers hold the trunk in place and the bowl holds about four pints of water. “I’ll take it.” I say.

“Have you any other tips for sparing the vacuum cleaner an overload with pine needles?” I ask.

There are four main types,” she begins. “There’s Norway Spruce , which is the most traditional looking Christmas tree. “That’s the one that smells like Christmas.” I say before I realise that I am speaking. “ Well I suppose so, if Christmas smells like pine trees.” She carries on. “If you don’t like sharp needles than Scots pine is the one to get. Then there are Lodgepole pine and the Nordmann, which are both very good this year too.” Jane knows her trees. “Remember too that you can take the trees to the recycling centre after Christmas too, so there’s no reason to by an artificial one.” I get the feeling that she has been tipped off about my preferences for plastic and realise that I am outnumbered.

INTO THE CAR
I have helped to drag the tree through the bailing machine and the next job is to get the tree into the car without taking the lining off of the roof. The seats go down and the pointy bit where the fairy will sit goes out of the front passenger window. “It’s going to be a squeeze, it’s too big.” It’s expected of me to moan so I don’t disappoint. “Don’t be such a grump” I hear someone whisper. Actually it does look a nice tree and we have some fabulous decorations that have been collected over the years to hang on the branches. For a brief second there I get a feeling of peace and well-being. It’s a brief feeling of peace though because Merry Xmas Evereebodee by Slade has just come on the radio…..

FIRST SANTA OF THE YEAR

“Where’s Santa? Is he here yet?” I’m shouting out of the window of my car at a bloke at the entrance of Willow Hill Nursery in Fahan. “He’s not here yet, we’re expecting a lot of people, so if you want to go up the road to the chapel and get parked there’s a bus service running every couple of minutes to get you back here.” He is silhouetted against the glare of an extremely powerful set of floodlights that they must have got from the GAA.

I’m here to see Santa officially open Willow Hill’s Winter Wonderland Fairy Grotto. This magical experience is open at certain times on Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday until Christmas. Now I don’t like buses much at the best of times, as I feel I lose my independence to come and go from places, so I ignore the man directing the traffic and park my 16 year old Nissan so tightly into the verge that the driver’s side wheels sink into the soft ground. I manage to get the car free and squeeze out of the door, getting brambled in the process, just as the full shuttle bus drives past me and pulls up in front of the well-lit entrance.

I walk into the sales area where a festive Dermott Walker dressed as an elf is trying to give change to customers who are paying in advance for their children to see the man in red and white. “We’re waiting for Santa to come and switch the lights on,” says the jolly but flustered elf, as he asks people to check their change “I think it’s ten euro but it might only be a fiver,” he cautions.

IT’S MAGIC
There are a lot of people turning up and anticipation is high, the entrance might be lit up like a football match but the garden centre itself is in darkness. Even in the darkness you can feel the excitement. It’s starting to rain too, but that isn’t putting anyone off as the fire engine siren is heard in the distance. There is a surge forward as the bright red fire engine crawls into the car park with a very smiley Santa in the passenger seat. As the machine comes to a stop he jumps out with a big Ho, Ho, Ho! and starts throwing boiled sweets up into the air for the youngsters to head butt as they come down to earth. As if by magic it stops raining as Dermott quickly leads the corpulent VIP to the “on” switch to get the lights working. “I now declare this grotto open” says Santa as he clicks on the power. “Oooooooh!” the crowd go appreciatively

The trees light up in a myriad of different colours. Polar bears and snowmen illuminate the garden centre. We also have a real live donkey in the corner of the site that looks to be very happy with the attention it’s getting now that the children can see it.

GROWING CHILDREN

Jackie has opened up the Grotto that has been built in her new polythene tunnel. The first thing that seems to be growing in it is the excitement of the children as they start queuing to see the big man. It’s surprisingly warm in the tunnel and Jackie and the team have been working hard to get the stage set up with a really cosy front room feel for Santa to greet the eager kids. I bump into Jackie as I walk into the tunnel. “We thought about this a couple of months ago and the idea just snowballed.” She says.

I use my powers as a writer for a local newspaper to squeeze my way through the crowd and get first in the queue to see Santa. “I’m taking photos.” I say to a couple of lads looking very displeased with this big grown up pushing in. Inside the grotto it’s actually very peaceful and Paul is there to take photographs of the meetings. “I’m here until Christmas.” He tells me just before he accidentally calls Santa “dad.” No- one notices so it’s down to business. Santa is fantastic, his personality and manner are everything you would expect, especially when the younger children can be so nervous. He is really putting everyone at ease.

CHRISTMAS PLANTERS

I think it’s time for me to wander about and let the youngsters have their fun, so it’s off to the display area of winter shrubs and planters. Even in the glow of the coloured lights I can see enough to know that the displays are looking better than ever this year and I am pleased to see that there are no spray painted heathers in sight. All of the plants look healthy and natural. Well-planted containers are a must for the doorway at Christmas, and all that is needed are a few hardy plants like an aucuba rhododendron or skimmia. The plants don’t even need flowers; berries and leaves are often bright enough to cheer you up on a dull day.

As expected, the queue is long for Santa. The kids have been very patient, but its time for me to go and slide my car out of the drainage ditch. I have just remembered as I walk out of the gate that I didn’t see the Giant LED teddy; it’s supposed to be the biggest in Ireland. That’s reason enough for me to come back next week.

Photo: Santa with Jackie, his little elf helper.

BEAUTY

BEAUTY IS IN THE AUDI OF THE BEHOLDER

I am starting my talk on gardening at a local club after putting it off for a long time. The room is full of enthusiastic gardeners and all are waiting to hear my ramblings about garden design and garden ornaments. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, especially when it comes to garden features, and it will be interesting to see what delights people have in their precious plots.

“I have an old car sitting at the bottom of my garden.” A woman declares as she pokes her face through two chairs on the back row. “What can I do with that? My son left it there, years ago and lives in America now.”

“When it comes to garden ornaments, it all boils down to finding items that are unique and special to you and that make you feel good. Every time you look down the garden at the old car, I’ll bet you have fond thoughts of your distant son over the pond.” I’m not sounding very convincing but I continue. “Have you thought about keeping chickens in it?” I’m making this up as I go along and that comment only gets a couple of disapproving grunts, so I continue.

“Many homeowners wouldn’t dream of putting any kind of art in their garden unless it was very traditional, preferring formal garden art like stone or concrete statues of angels, gargoyles and goddesses. Formal garden art also includes ornate birdbaths and heavy classical water fountains. These certainly have their place and can be well-loved additions to a garden. Other people have a different sense of aesthetics and prefer a more unique outdoor living area perhaps with a modern look and feel. This is where recycled products come in useful. A friend of mine collects old double glazed windows and has made some really useful greenhouses and sunrooms. OK they wouldn’t win the award at Bloom for the most attractive garden feature but they do the job and keep a few more things out of the landfill for a few years.”

“Do you know anyone who can take the bloody thing away?” The woman interrupts. I’m being heckled by a disgruntled back row gardener, who thinks I am in the scrap business.

“No”. I say rather unhelpfully and continue.

I did a talk on garden design a couple of years a go in Buncrana and everyone either fell asleep or had to leave early so I ask the 30 strong group a question to keep them on their toes and keep boredom away.

“Has anyone got an original garden feature, other than a car that they would like to mention?”

“I have an old shed that I wouldn’t mind shifting” chimes a man at the front. “It’s got asbestos in it so you have to be careful.”

A chain reaction has started. “My husband left three pallets of blocks on the driveway last Christmas. I wouldn’t mind those being lifted too” says a small woman holding a sickly plant in her hands for identification later.

This isn’t going well. “Is there anything in a garden that someone actually likes and gets pleasure from?” I ask. A hand goes up at the back “Yes” I say.

“I’ve got some gravel that needs shifting.”

TEA TIME

It’s nearly the tea break. I have a list of topics that I wanted to cover tonight. Winter gardening, garden ornaments and redesigning old paths. I fold the list neatly and put it in my pocket, it will keep for another day.

“Clearing your garden of rubbish in winter can be as rewarding as having it landscaped.” I’ve have found a new topic for the evening and everyone seems interested. “It sounds like most of us have something in the garden that shouldn’t be there. Let’s see if we can come up with some names of people that will do garden clearance, I’m sure we can find someone in the area.”

The car topic returns….“How many chickens can you get in a four door saloon?”

“I reckon you could get at least six, maybe more if the seats are taken out.” I haven’t a clue what I am talking about now and could have just given a very poor answer to a joke. “If it was a hatchback then maybe eight or nine.” What colour is it?” I ask the woman aimlessly. “I had heard somewhere that chickens don’t like brown because it reminds them of foxes.”

“Green” says the woman…... “ Green with moss.” She continues and get’s a giggle from the audience. “It’s an Audi I think.”

“Greens fine” I say reassuringly. “Chickens like green, it reminds them of fields and open spaces, it will blend well into the trees too and won’t be much of an eyesore.”

“I don’t have any trees.” Says the woman disappointedly. “My husband chopped them all down earlier on this year to make way for a shed”

“The man at the front has a shed he doesn’t want, all it needs is a new roof.” I am being flippant but am saved by the sound of the tea being poured in the kitchen. “Here’s the tea coming.” I am feeling relieved. “We’ll have a look at that plant after the break.”