Why the Pink Pig Farm?

Our house in F________ (in keeping with nineteenth-century novelistic traditions established by Thackeray and Trollope, the exact location shall remain a secret) was once a pig farm. In evidence, it has been pointed out to us that in the back study, a room tucked behind a large inglenook fireplace in the oldest part of the house, the stone floor (original) slopes sharply downwards at both sides of the room. Back in the day, this strange feature eased the flow of pig’s blood dripping steadily from carcases hung from black hooks embedded in the ceiling ( still extant - although the only thing hanging from them these days is a cheap plastic British flag Daniel was given when he became a British citizen some years ago now. As F______ is in a borough where UKIP have a strong presence this is probably not a good idea; but the room isn’t overlooked except by squirrels, the odd kestrel, the occasional muntjac or roe deer and our chickens). The pig butchering part of the house dates back to 1540 – an inconceivably long time ago to my mind, especially if you consider what else was happening then – Henry VIII was busy marrying and divorcing (Anne of Cleves) and marrying again (Catherine Howard) whilst taking time out to execute Thomas Cromwell; Europe was suffering a drought during which both the Rhine and the Seine dried up; the ideas of Copernicus were published for the first time by Georg Rheticus in Danzig and, disturbingly, the earth, therefore, could no longer be considered the centre of the Universe…

Our house is also undeniably pink. Suffolk pink, in fact. According to country lore the colour was first created using dried pigs blood – oh, centuries ago. But the more mundane truth is that Suffolk pink only really became popular in the early twentieth century as a concept for brightening up villages in a county where most of the buildings are made of lathe and plaster rather than brick. The local builder who was replacing some rotten French doors for us the other day told me that the top foot or so of our building is made of reeds and plaster whereas the rest is lathe and plaster. So at some point the roof was raised (Raise High The Roofbeams, Carpenter!).

So – pink and a pig farm. The Pink Pig Farm. Welcome!