I was a town kid living in an apartment on Main Street about where Town Hall is now. Anything I learned about farm life was picked up at my grandparents’ or great-grandparents’ homes: George and Maude Bateman or Jerry and Inez Franklin.
My Bateman grands “enjoyed” my company more than my Franklin great-grands. They were younger, and there were always so many friends and family members there; what trouble could one more ratty little girl be?
There were pigs there, too. Out of all the farm animals, the pigs were my favorites. One pig was Susie, who had come to Franklin in my aunt’s car all the way from Arkansas. There were black and white pigs and pigs with big colored spots on them, but Susie’s coloring was unique to me, which made her the best. She was a solid auburn color, and we called her a red pig.
I loved going with Mamaw to slop the hogs, which is a farming way of saying the more genteel, “Feed the pigs.” Mamaw carried the bucket that held the collected day’s leftovers and peelings of all kinds. There might be potato peelings, apple peelings, cantaloupe rind, or outer leaves of cabbage; it just depended on what Mamaw had prepared.
The feeding trough was in the shape of a “V” and fairly long. Sometimes, two pigs were in the same area, so there was room at the trough for both of them. If Mamaw threw corn into the pen, the pigs would scurry to take a bite from each cob before settling into eating one completely. I absolutely loved the noises the pigs made when they ate their dinner. They made that slop seem delicious with their chewing, slurping, snorting, and grunting.
I took to visiting Susie even if it was not feeding time. Susie and I had an understanding. If she would sidle up to the fence, I would scratch her back or side. Phoebe Collier was my playmate who lived close to Mamaw, and I believe she liked Susie as much as I did.
I got it in my head that Susie liked ragweed, so Phoebe and I pulled ragweed to take to Susie, who ate it with enthusiasm. That was all the motivation we needed to keep her in ragweed. Just like cooks who are delighted when someone eats so heartily, there is no need for compliments. We were sure we had hit on Susie’s very favorite green.
Susie proved to be one of Mamaw’s most lucrative acquisitions, since she produced litter after litter of piglets for Mamaw to sell. I always thought of her as Mamaw’s pig, but I guess there was dual ownership with Granddaddy.
Anyway, whenever I see a patch of ragweed with its lacy leaves, I think of Susie, Phoebe, Mamaw, summertime fun, and an old pig pen out by the barn on the Lake Emory Road.