Tuesday Twitterdeeoink-oink

I had to climb the ladder with the broom this morning.  Note that I did not fly up the ladder with my broom.  

The satellite dish needed some sweeping, and it could need more before I publish this post. 

Those thick, moist flakes are filling the air and piling up a new coat of snow on the ground.

And, the south wind is helping them land directly on my satellite dish.

What's most maddening about having to clean off the dish is that it's nearly impossible to avoid big deposits of wet snow falling from the dish smack dab in the middle of middle of my face.

Not fun.

Seems I've got another "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner" story this morning.  Now, Geneva did read my post yesterday and called to apologize for Midnight, their elderly kitty, coming over and feasting with our Siamese Jonas in the barn.  

I told Geneva not to apologize cuz I thought it was kinda neat that their old cat felt comfortable enough to join his new friend for a little Meow Mix.  I'm hoping we see Midnight again one of these days.

Now, last night's "guests" decided they needed to dine off from Annie's dog dish,  which sits in a narrow opening between Lily's stall and the tack room.

When you figure that one mama pig and four half-grown piglets all squeezed into that spot to clean off every last drop of Atta Boy, it's truly amazing.

Cuz Mama's a big pig----anatomically speaking, that is.

The excitement all began late yesterday afternoon when I went for a walk down the lane. Upon turning around, I could see Lily and Lefty prancing around the barnyard, letting out occasional snorts.

They were eyeing something to the south of the barnyard.

When they kept it up, I figured maybe a moose had stepped into the yard.  That immediately got me to thinking of places I could escape if the moose decided to come trotting down the lane.

The round pen looked good. I could run inside and shut the gate.  Surely, a moose would not knock down those metal panels. 

As I got closer, the dogs sensed something was amiss.  Shortly after that, I saw a pig's face appear behind the snowbank.

And, then there were more.  Five all together.  I recognized them as our neighbor's pigs to the west.

They had come in to our place from South Center Valley Road, so the obviously closeknit family had been traveling for some time.

Kea wanted to chase them off, but all I could think of was pigs scattered all over a road with the afternoon coming-home traffic having to come to screeching halts to miss them.

So, I told Kea to stay with me until we came closer to the barn.  Figuring the pigs would be better off in the barn, I finally told Kea to send them in there.

She did a fine job.

I pulled the barn door shut and ran to my car to go tell the neighbors.  I moved quickly, only because I had no idea what those pigs could do to that barn in my absence.

The neighbor was not home, so I hurried back.

Opening the barn door, I saw the clump of porkers all huddled around Annie Dog's dish, eating like pigs.

With very little effort I was able to herd them to the back box stall.  They stayed the night.

I eventually tracked down the neighbor, Marty, who took time off work to race by Big R, purchase a sack of pig feed and drive to our place.

Now, if pigs have to come and visit and dine, these swine are among the best.  

Civilized pigs is what I'd call them.

Friendly pigs, too.

Lazy, yes.  

Marty told me they sleep until 11.

Marty was correct.  

When I went out to feed the horses this morning, Lily and Lefty weren't too insulted about spending the night outside (I'm pretty sure I would be writing a different story had the horses spent the night in the barn with the pigs).  

Except for the radio, the barn was perfectly quiet when I opened the door.  Annie Dog came out like she usually does.  

In fact, I even wondered if the pigs were still there cuz it just seemed too normal inside that barn.

Sure enough, as I walked to the back stall,  they were contentedly cuddled up in a corner with big Mama in the middle.

Not a squeal out of any of them.  

I guess I had disturbed their "beauty rest."  

Anyway, Marty's coming this morning with fruit, hoping to be the Pied Piper of pig owners by leading them home down the lane and through the west woods. 

I don't know what's gonna show up next here at our Lovestead with a "What's for dinner?" look on its face, but I must admit our visitors of late have been kinda fun.

Happy Tuesday, from a place and on a DAY when FIVE PIGS WOULD LIE.