So, one of the things we did when we were in North Carolina was to go to the local Pork Center. I call it the Pig Store, but the sign says "Pork Center", so I guess that is the official name for it. The Gals, Ma, and I drove up to this long, white building. As we got out of the car, we heard pigs crying in the distance. I felt sorry for them, but not sorry enough to turn around and go home. We grabbed a cart and went inside. There were big freezers full of every part of a pig you can think of ("We Sell Everything But The Squeal"). The Gals were not too happy when they saw the heads neatly wrapped in cellophane sitting on a table ready to be put in the freezer, but other than that they thought it was neat. I don't think they quite understood what they were looking at. I tried not to dwell on it for too long. I mean, I like pigs, but I like bacon a lot better.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Everything But The Squeal
So, one of the things we did when we were in North Carolina was to go to the local Pork Center. I call it the Pig Store, but the sign says "Pork Center", so I guess that is the official name for it. The Gals, Ma, and I drove up to this long, white building. As we got out of the car, we heard pigs crying in the distance. I felt sorry for them, but not sorry enough to turn around and go home. We grabbed a cart and went inside. There were big freezers full of every part of a pig you can think of ("We Sell Everything But The Squeal"). The Gals were not too happy when they saw the heads neatly wrapped in cellophane sitting on a table ready to be put in the freezer, but other than that they thought it was neat. I don't think they quite understood what they were looking at. I tried not to dwell on it for too long. I mean, I like pigs, but I like bacon a lot better.
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