March 28th
"Hello! Excuse me, sir, didn't you keep sheep, once?"
"Had to sell them! Paid more to the shearers than the wool was worth. Then I kept pigs, but some inspector came and told me the sty was dirty. That I couldn't get inside to clean it! Look! I fit right through. But the European Union says the door is too small. Stalin, he would send men to take some of the pigs away, but he didn't tell you the sty is dirty! He didn't tell you how to run your farm. Now someone's ratting on me, because they built their town palace next door and don't like the smell. So I sold my pigs, the sows and the boars, I sold them all, so-and-so came right over and loaded them up. Just two horses now, and the chickens, they come and go as they please. But no pigs. The pigs are gone. No more pigs!"
Behind me, in the padlocked barn, something grunted. I didn't say a word.
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