Snow and slaughtered pigs

So we did get snow after all. Not quite enough for a snowman, but enough for my daughter to drop a snowball down the back of my neck. Brrr. And I’ve survived the week without forgetting anything. I think. Mind you, there’s probably still time. Only three more days until Christmas eve (my daughter’s keeping the count-down) and then, if they’re REALLY well behaved, Father Christmas might pay us a visit. I can remember one year when he didn’t come. Not to Mato Grosso anyway – at least, not to our house. Some bugger pinched his sack, if I remember. Someone who worked for baggage handling in the airport. It was still fun, though. We went to the farm to buy meat – the kind that’s still alive – and spent the day chasing headless chickens around the house. Oh yeah, and watching a drunk ex-clown slaughter a pig is … well, it’s one of those memories I’ll always cherish.

Happy Christmas.

Dan Smith’s Official Website

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2 thoughts on “Snow and slaughtered pigs

  1. OMG, I had forgotten about the errant presents! I’m not sure what is more memorable, the precision with which said pig was dispatched with the blunt side of an axe, or the expression on mum’s face when she thought he was going to hack it’s head off with the sharp side! Then of course there was the incident with the ‘alcool’ and lighter. A little too much pinga had clouded the minds; having rubbed neat ethanol all over the hairy (dead) pig one of the guys set it on fire (to burn off the hair), and in the proceess set both his arms on fire, oh how we laughed.

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