Dear Hog Nation,
Thanksgiving is finally here! The time to give thanks and slay hogs has arrived. I know everybody is busy cooking turkey, slaying proverbial hogs and planning a large scale hog slaughter, so I won't post too much today. I would just like to leave you with a traditional hogslayer's poem entitled "A Visit From The Hog Slayer." I'm not sure of the origins of this poem, but it has been customary among hogslaying folk to drink Stroh's, give thanks and read this poem the night before the year's big hog kill. Happy Thanksgiving to all, let us give thanks and slay hogs!
"A Visit From The Hog Slayer"
-traditional hog slayer's poem to be read on Thanksgiving night.
'Twas the night before Hog Kill, when down on the farm,
Not a piglet was stirring, inside of the barn;
The meat hooks were hung by the rafters with care,
In hopes that Hog Slayer soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of tenderloins danced in their heads;
And Duck with his Keystones and Vantage Lights pack,
Had just settled his brains for a tryptophan nap.
When out by the barn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Took three ibuprofens and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen leaves,
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects beneath,
When out by the barn and the one-eyed black dog,
Comes a beat-up Ford pick-up with bisected hogs,
With a little old driver, so grizzled and smudged,
I knew in a moment it must be The Judge.
More buzzed than Bob Bolden, the slayers they came,
Judge cackled and hollered, and called them by name;
"Hog Slayer! Will Caudill! And Spiritual Leader!
On 'Sausage Man' Alan, cram fat in the feeder!
The bandsaw a buzzin', old knives on the wall!
Now slay away! slay away! slay away all!"
The Turtle Man hacked at the freshly killed swine,
A spare rib from under, a ham from behind.
Then up to the second floor, ham cut anew
To cure to a salt rock for one year or two,
And then, in a twinkling, I spied Ol' Sawtooth
With Rex in the corner, inspecting a hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Through the carriage house doors I saw Hog Slayer bound.
He was dressed all in camo, from his head to his foot.
And his clothes were all tarnished with innards and gut,
He drank like a sailor, no fanfare involved.
When asked of his trade, he said "awww, sawin' hogs."
He sipped on white lightning, a task he had taken,
To teach City Ham how to saw up some bacon.
He sliced up his hand, the cut was agape,
As he dressed up the wound with a roll of duct tape.
The Judge trolled the scene, the swine he inspected;
A butcher by trade, but hell, he's elected.
He spied the raw sausage turn out of the grinder
Put a pinch in his mouth as a humble reminder:
That hog is the best, you can eat all four mittens,
The ears and the tail, the tongue and the "chitlins"!
Crack open the skull once the hog has been slain,
And you'll find 'bout a coffee cup full of the brains!
As we all slay away, drank our swamp warter grog,
All merrily crushing the proverbial hog
A Stroh's in the left hand, the right hand to hack,
Slay a cold can of Oertel's for old Uncle Jack.
We spoke not a word, the hog was our work,
Filled casings with sausage, the skillet with pork
But the moonshine was strong, and the Hog Slayer rose
And giving a nod, from the slaying he froze.
He sprang from the barn and on down to the couch,
Ol' Jake-Leg had got him, for that I can vouch.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he said "I'm all right,
Happy Hog Kill to all, and to all a good-night."
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