Farm Story-(gross, but true)

O.k, so, I grew up on a farm and all. I have realized that growing up this way, makes for an awful lot of interesting stories. Well, they're interesting to me.....and to my kids, at least. race doesn't care for this particular story, so much.

When I was but a wee sprite, I wanted to be a veterinarian. Not a small pooch/cat vet, but a large-animal farm veterinarian. I'd had my appetite wet by none other than James Herriott, and well.....I WAS on a farm.......it just progressed from there.

I jumped at any opportunity to learn more about medical and surgical procedures involving animals. Dad, at the time had the largest and most state-of-the-art hog facility in our state. Complete with a records office, a feed/grain room, a farrowing room, and weaning rooms. There was even a shoot to bathe the sows in when they came in from the outside to deliver their babies.

It was in this facility that I learned how to castrate pigs. Yep, that's right. My dad taught his oldest daughter how to castrate pigs. I can remember it all very plainly. And I enjoyed it. Not the actual TAKING of the pig nuts(sorry), but of my new-gained knowledge of the surgical procedure. It was great. I felt so grown-up....so useful. Just me and my dad, working together.....

One crisp day, however will NOT be forgotten. There I was, at my post with my surgical blade in hand, waiting for the nexr pig to be deposited within my reach, when our neighbor from up the road showed up. He and my dad exchanged the usual plesantries, and then something strange occured. Our neighbor, our NEAREST neighbor...our neighbor who liked to dress in shiny,open-front shirts and gold chains...... produced a plastic bag from his coat pocket...and as I looked on in bewilderment,he fished about in the large bucket of discarded pig nuts, and removed several dozen and placed them in his bag. He thanked my dad, and went on his way.

We went back to castrating, and after a few minutes I asked my dad in a puzzled voice, "What is he gonna do with those, dad??" Dad chuckled kinda low and said "Weeellllll.........he's gonna eat em'.Call's em' mountain oysters..Jus' fries em' up(chuckle, chuckle) Damn, crazy, (mumble,mumble).

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was changed. And THAT was sick. From then on, when it would snow, and I would go with dad to deliver hot-buttered rum to the neighbors......I NEVER went into his house.Never.

Well, as you know, the whole vet thing never worked out. For one thing it all back-fired in highschool. My best friend J used to tell about my castrating experiences as a party joke, which she found hysterical. (In case you're interested, this WILL NOT help you get a date). And at some point(probably the point at which the amount of schooling required to BE a vet was learned) shopping, make-up and clothes moved front and center of my little world...........and I went to college and majored in fashion-marketing.

Mountain Oysters...... .....Ain't no way.
G'night,
melissa