Boiling pig heads

Nothing says summer in the South like the sight and aroma of boiling pig heads in the backyard.

pig-head

Okay, so this little adventure had nothing to do with being in the South and everything to do with having a sister with a dead-animal fetish (and I mean that in the most wholesome sense of the word).

A student in one of her anthropology classes bought pig heads from a butcher, shot them with bullets, hacked at them with a machete, then buried them to see what would happen. Susan (the sister) was very pleased at the student's ingenuity. Then, joy of joys, when the class was over, the student told Susan she could keep the pig heads! Rapture!

Unfortunately they still had a little tissue attached. And nobody wants that. So, she brought them over to boil in Chris's outdoor, turkey-frying pot. (Thanksgiving will never be the same.)

The smell of boiling hog fat--it reminded me of the old-timey candle-making smell on steroids--permeated our yard and house for hours, but look at the payoff. Three perfectly clean pig heads preserved for college students for years.

potopigheads

Better sign up early! That class will fill up fast!

Comments

lisa said…
Pardon me for interloping in your journal but your post made me laugh! My own sister had a thing for animal bones when she was in junior high. Living in the country, bodies weren't hard to find. A friend gave her a pig head which like your sister's needed to be cleaned up. My sister bleached it for a few days and then left it sitting on the back porch to air out. One night, something ran off with it! She got up the next morning and it was gone-just vanished! I've saved your post to show her-even though it's been 20 years, she'll get a laugh at the memory your blog invokes!
Lisa,

Interlope all you want! I'm glad you enjoyed the post and it brought back memories for you. Aren't sisters great! Mine has also had the thing for bones since we were little.
Lesley said…
New Post Please! That pig skull is creeping me out.
Sorry. I'll get right on that!
Susan said…
While the pig skulls did get clean, they were unfortunately still destined for the trash heap. After they dried out, they fell apart. Turns out that the pigs were so young when they were killed that their cranial sutures hadn't fused. I was left with a heap of unfused pig bones that weren't of any use. Oh well, at least next time I smell something awful, I can be thankful that it doesn't smell as bad as those pigs.
Anonymous said…
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