Rehoboth Farm

In May of 2003 we purchased 22 acres that was the culmination of years of searching for a piece of land from which to live, to homestead, and to pass on to our children. We finished building our house in December of 2003 and moved in. Unfortunately this was too late in the season to buy any pigs for raising like we had done back in 1999/2000. We live in Georgia and so we like to raise our pigs from September to February to keep them from suffering through our very hot summers. We anxiously waited for September of 2004 to come around, and when it did we bought two piglets from Mr. Floyd and got started.

By December of 2004 the pigs were big enough to be in the obnoxious stage and their enclosure of metal panels was beginning to interest them. It was during this time that our family of eight began to come down with a stomach virus that hit us one by one. I was the last one to get it. I soon found myself laying in bed unable to move and praying that no-one would make the bed move either. Kim took all of the children, except for Mike, into town to do some grocery shopping. As I was laying there it dawned on me that I had not fed the pigs that morning and it was now after noon.

That was when I heard Mike at the door knocking quietly. "Dad", he said. "Uuuuuhhhh", I responded. "How are you feeling, can you move?" he asked. "Uuuuuhhhh" I said again. "IÂ’m only asking because thereÂ’s a problem". "What", I asked, "is the problem". "Um, the pigs are in the front yard by the house", he answered.

This is probably the worst possible thing that I could contemplate at that moment. I jumped to my feet and the room started to spin. I had chills and fever so I put on about three layers of old winter coats and a hat and then Mike and I headed outside. As we were walking slowly to the feed bin Mike said "You look terrible". "That describes how I feel", I said. He said I was white and ‘kinda green’ at the same time. We got some feed and went back to the pen. The hogs had started at a corner where two metal panels met and had actually broken the welds on the metal wire and gotten out, it was unbelieveable. We called for them and they came running, ears flapping and all. After about ten minutes we got them back into the pen; then Mike got me a chair to sit on while I repaired the panels. It was then that we had visitors.

The land we bought was actually 132 rural acres split up into six lots, and we were one of the first to buy and build on one of the lots. When we closed on our land the real estate agent asked if he could use our land as an example of what could be done with the other lots. At the time we said "Sure", but that was now a year and a half ago and he had never shown up. Well now he decided to, and he had an SUV full of prospective clients with him.

To be able to get to our hog-pen you would have to first drive past our house and then proceed back to a wood-line about 100 yards away, which is precisely the path that he took. Here I was sitting on an old green chair, dressed like a homeless person and looking like I belonged in the hospital, and all the while sitting alongside two big hogs that were munching in a feed trough in front of me. When he saw Mike and I he made a bee-line for us, and IÂ’m sure he was telling his potential buyers "And here folks could be your future next-door neighbors!". When he got about fifty feet away, he made a sudden u-turn and quickly headed back towards our driveway. Mike and I just looked at each other and shook our heads and went back to work.

We never saw him again after that and we noticed that it took a long time for the other lots to sell. Even now, none of the owners have decided to build next to us which I guess is just another benefit to raising your own pigs.