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Rear Drag Spinning

Percy Pig's Adventure

In the school year after I zip around fifty cc in my not so faithful. Junior Garrelli moped (small bike). A series of miraculous escapes serious injury almost falls, prompted my parents to lend me money to buy my first car. A two-door sedan yellow Vauxhall Alive, with a white roof. With this little car, my friends and I traveled the city and the country in search of wine, women and song. More often than not it was mostly wine and singing, but we all had our moments illuminating the fairer sex.

One particular weekend, stands out in my memory for several reasons. We traveled to my friend Stub, parents' family and the trading station in a Xhosa-speaking people near King Williams Town in the then Transkei and Ciskei, I'm not sure what it was. We arrived when the rest of the uncles and cousins ​​had gathered to help with the slaughter of a huge boar hog. The whole family pitched in and it was a mammoth task to kill and butcher a pig this size. Stub (so called because it was short and stocky), stretching (6 ft 3ins Clive) and were sent to end the reign of the boar, and the beat of my heart, like a stroke two went to the pigsty. Stretch and I were a herd of pigs the corner of the pen where Stub apply the coup de foie. This was easier said than done because the pig was larger than the three of us together and then repeated attempts failed, with stretching and diving through or over the rails at the last minute, we gather to change our plan of action.

The new plan was to enter the pen and use sticks to push the giant pig in the corner to shoot stub. At that time, the boar, of course, was so furious that it was dangerous for us, even to get into the pen, much less have the audacity to put the angry animal with sticks, but after what seemed like hours insistence, screaming and daring escapes, we succeeded in getting to stand in the corner and the piece given the shot of death. The boar had been fired came as pole (Duh --- that's what just happened). Stretch and breathed a sigh of relief, although I feel bad to look at, and climbed to the top rail of the pen to recover breath.

It was a scream, cry and snort and the boar got up from the "dead", he turned and charged directly to stretch I stretch and grabbed me and grabbed me, and just before the animal goes mad and broken through the posts below us. I fell back on a pile of manure cow's dry enough that I broke the slight decline, while stretching landed face down in the mud of the pigpen overflow consisting of pee and poop pig chewing average age rotten vegetables and water from the leaky bucket. He rose from the chaos like a lion roaring to fall on his back in the same meal for pigs while scratching his face to clear.

Spitting out waste and the threat that rose to his feet and went after the pig, while balancing a stick, which had caught above his head. Stub, meanwhile, was stuck in the ground with his mouth open and his eyes glassy. I shouted to come and left after stretching and Hogzilla.

The sight of all six feet three stretching thin, covered with the waste, the load after the beast, while brandishing her broomstick, and a pledge to peel the paint off the walls, will remain with me forever. It reminded me of a mix of some hillbilly drunk and Don Quixote, who was accused of windmills. But I digress.

The Three Musketeers took off after the enraged animal with the sole idea to finish what he started, before more damage was done or someone was seriously injured. Percy, that was the "pigs name, went directly into the toilet, toilet or fall over or what is called the thing and I was praying that neither Uncle John, nor any of his family was in communion with nature in of dilapidated loo. Percy and the three had arrived at full speed this time and no amount of cheering and booing can deter us from the task at hand. Piece could not shoot, if anyone was inside the bathroom, and none of us was close enough to change the route of head Percy 'office. With a shriek - cry Percy slammed head first private, completely demolishing a hit. Silence ------- lead! -------- Percy appeared as if cast in stone, staggered for a few seconds, then fell to one side with a fall of ground shaking. The mangled remains of the long fall lay on the side while the corpse of poor Percy was dangerously near the edge of the abyss.

The rest of the family came running, and chaos reigned throughout the world was out of breath from the hunt and everyone was shouting questions about what had happened. We were trying to explain between taking large gulps of breath and shouting to be heard above the noise.

Part 2

Once the noise had subsided Uncle John took over and ordered some of the other men to get the rope from the garage and take the truck to transport the ship Percy killing. The "truck" referred to was an old Ford 500 that was unlicensed and unroadworthy danger to all who attempted to drive the thing. The driving game was almost a full turn before the front wheels actually started to move and no license required when the truck never left the small farm and was mainly used to make deliveries of heavy buying of the mud hut village nearby. The exhaust pipe was absent, having fallen from many years ago and the vehicle even have been out of place in a pile of junk.

The truck started with a warbling and a couple of backfires after being pushed by a sweat band butchers curse and a roar of exhaust free grind the gears and many squeals, chimes and the sounds of grating, was reversed to the channel. A wooden ramp was placed near the rear pig and a rope around the rear section of the animal. Two men climbed into the truck while each member of the family tried to get a handle on the big pig.

At Uncle John "call all pulled up and tried to slide the body through the makeshift ramp. The smell of death combined, smelly, dirty swill, Stretch covered, smelly old pig and black open pit we were doing all the jaw to breathe the air of any foul was becoming more difficult as you tense and pulled to slide the body up the ramp. Percy lay challenging death, and flatly refused to be hoisted up the ramp.

Exhausted filthy, demoralized and sick of the plague, all pulled out of a hundred paces to discuss our options.

After much discussion it was decided to roll the old body in a tarp and then attached to the truck and drag the entire package to the shed. After much toil and sweat, everyone cheered when it was achieved. The rope was tied to the old truck and jumped behind the wheel stub.

All retired to a safe distance back and stretching away to get a change of clothes after the decision to burn the smelly. Scrap old engine speeds, which belched huge clouds of oily smoke to add to the atmosphere and toxic, and casters surged forward to start the drag, but the vessel's age did not have enough power to move the package from a significant distance. There was a loud explosion as the defense was torn off the vehicle, now unfettered, loaded a little non-family, before coming to a stop. The rope and the bumper shot back, as if it were elastic and demolished the final straight section of the already shattered the matter. This whole thing killing was quickly becoming a series of hilarious incidents that are only seen in comic books and cartoons.

The rope is loosened and unraveled the bumper, and then attached to the rear axle the truck, which would be the best place in the first place, and stayed the entire family including women around the truck ready to drive once had Stub tighten the ropes. "Again, with a deafening roar and cry a lot, the loaded vehicle forward and with the help of all of us who dragged their destination Percy final.

Once Percy was in the shed attached to the pulley and hoisted by the hind legs so that the killing could begin. Being a city boy and unused to the slaughter of animals or slaughter, combined with the sickly sweet smell, I felt strongly and fainting at this time, and you slipped away the scene to try to catch some much needed fresh air.

With a bit of wisdom from me, I called Stub and stretching, and suggested we try to reconstruct the long fall flat rather than engage in the slaughter process. We have assembled some of the posts of new wood, corrugated iron sheets, nails, screws, tools and construction began. Fortunately the three of us were better suited to the construction of meat and soon had a facility of brand new toilet built over the long fall that seemed ten times better than the last, even if I say to myself. With a new door, new headquarters and a layer Paint the toilet new look and it worked very well, so they were forgiven for not killing Percy with the first shot only, and anyway, after some of the carnage was completed, it was found that the bullet had barely penetrated through the skull bone and brain. Because the bullet had traveled enough, it was decided that the rounds used, must have been very old and therefore had no power, so it was not our fault after all.

Throughout this enthusiasm, effort, thick air and smell, it was decided we all needed a break, so they all retired for lunch, I could not cope with all modes. Any morsel of food that passed my lips that have given rise to an immediate evacuation of my delicate stomach feeling. Then the real work began.

A fire started in a large cast iron pot and all the excess fat was added to extract the lard that is cooling, cut into blocks and frozen. Of course, this process also added to the general stench in the air. Bits of meat from the hardest parts were placed on a large plate and enamel taken inside for seasoning, chopping and making sausage.

Being in a trading station where there was no electricity, except for a generator and the kitchen lights, all had that chopping is done by hand, with the three musketeers designed to provide the muscle power to turn the handle.

Large sections of meat designated to become bacon were also sent into the interior, where they would be placed in a bacon slicer electric lights when the generator began on the night. These sections are then cut into slices and packaged for freezing. Other sections were hung in a small shed where another fire started, then covered with green sawdust and quit.

The smell of freshly slaughtered pork, while it is slightly masked by the smoke, garlic, pepper and spices, it was nauseating to say the least, and my sense of smell and taste buds developed an aversion to pork, which lasted for many, many years before he condescended to eat pork products, including bacon, which had been one of my favorite dishes.

About the Author

Years of experience with Disability, it's complexity and survival are tackled head on in these articles. Roly has been wheelchair bound with myositis for some 10 years now and he has numerous articles published in magazines in South Africa and on various sites on the internet.