That Panicky Feeling

I'm in a bit of a pickle. Well, it's certainly a first world dilemma for sure.

This harvest season has, as usual, produced a glut of peaches, apricots, plums, nectarines, cucumbers and tomatoes. I've made more batches of sauce, jams and preserves than I care to count during the heat of summer on a gas ring positioned on top of my old wood stove. The heat and smells escape up the chimney.  The price of gas adds to my costs though, so I had a brilliant idea of preparing the fruit (wash and cut) and bagging in 2 kg lots to store in one of the freezers.
The freezers are running anyway, full of beef, lamb, chickens, dog food, baked goods, cream, bread, cakes and pre-cooked meals, so there was to be no extra power cost to store the fruit in this way.
As soon as the cooler weather arrives I planned to gradually cook it up on the wood stove, saving on power costs. Our firewood costs us nothing.

 

 The pigs have been growing along nicely and I expected to have them butchered at the end of this month (March). During which time we would have eaten down enough of the freezer contents to fit two large pigs. I also would have cooked up much of the frozen fruit on the much anticipated  cooler autumn days.

Last weekend however, the pigs started chewing on the electric fence wires that prevent them from digging out of their enclosure yard and paddock. Brian checked all the fittings and wire strands to find where it might be shorting out. Nothing seemed to be amiss. We searched for where there may be a fault and then it dawned on us that our solar electric pig fence unit had died.
We were able to borrow a similar solar unit for twenty four hours, and first thing on Monday morning I booked the pigs into the nearest abattoir. Fortunately their "pig day" was on the following day (Tuesday) and they had a vacancy for ours to be processed.   So, on Monday after Brian returned from work, we loaded them onto the trailer for their little ride to the abattoir.
This wasn't our plan. We had planned to butcher them here so there would be no stress for them. It was awful dropping them off in the yards, in a strange place, for someone else to take the responsibility for killing our food. It felt like we betrayed them. It felt like a cop out.

 They were killed on Tuesday and on Wednesday (yesterday) I drove to the abattoir to collect the carcasses. We always hang them for a week in our own cool room before cutting them into the portions and cuts that we prefer. (We also know that (a) we're getting our own animals and (b) getting ALL of the meat.)

I guess I had underestimated their size while they were still running around on all four trotters.
They weighed a whopping 112 kilograms each! With slightly more of a fat layer than I'd have preferred, but looking good nonetheless.

So here's the thing.

On Monday we will cut them up and pack them for the freezer... but how will they all fit in?

 I asked the Universe for a couple of cool days, and she graciously complied.
The wood stove pumped on for a full two days and I threw everything at her.

Two big batches of tomato sauce cleared all of the the bags of frozen tomatoes.
A big pot of dog's stew got rid of one big bag of kangaroo meat.
Three big batches of apricot jam put a small dent in the bags of apricots.
One batch of peach and rhubarb jam cleared two bags of peaches and one bag of chopped rhubarb.

  In the oven, throughout the two days, went various dishes of peaches and apricots poached in honey, then spooned into hot jars, lids screwed on tight, and sealed for keeping in the cellar.

 Three batches of butter cleared out three tubs of cream.

But then, from the butter, there was buttermilk, so two batches of buttermilk muffins asked to be baked. These have chopped apple and mixed dried fruit. 

Some for Brian's morning smoko's and a few for a sick friend.

The weather is returning to high 20's and 30's for the remaining week. Too hot for the wood stove, so frozen bags of fruit will continue to be preserved on the gas ring every day until the big pig processing day on Monday. 

I'll do it. I know I will. There WILL be space to fit ALL of this delicious pork.

I'm still feeling a tad panicky though.

Cheers,

Sally XX