Lifestyle > Living the good life

I admit it, if I were to give up the day job it probably wouldn’t be to become a pig farmer – not that there’s anything at all wrong with being a pig farmer (it actually sounds quite idyllic) but, well … I wouldn’t consider it because it just wouldn’t have occurred to me.

Not so Caroline and her partner Jo. An accidentally-heard radio programme sowed the seed; their previously held pipe-dream of farming suddenly had substance – rare-breed pig farming sounded like a real possibility. They became women with a mission; all they had to do was to turn their dream into reality.

Neither Caroline (Liney) nor Jo consider themselves rash or impulsive women, and talking with them, they don’t come across that way either. Instead, they give a down-to-earth impression; they had a vague plan, they considered it, looked at the options, seized their opportunities and went for it – fair play. The fact that they hadn’t actually been together that long before they sold up, pooled their resources, virtually (but not entirely in Jo’s case) gave up the day jobs, bought some land and buildings ‘with potential’, and began to rear animals that they knew nothing about seems incidental. The plan came off. Liney and Jo are now bona fide rare-breed pig farmers; actually living the good life and not just dreaming about it. It’s one of those “don’t you just love it when a plan comes together?” stories.

And Jo and Liney have every right to be chuffed. They have turned the buildings ‘with potential’ into 2, 5-star self-catering cottages, whose tenants keep coming back for more. Their rare-breed (Middle White and Tamworth) sows produce a litter of piglets every six months or so. Henson, their Middle White Boar is a very happy chappy indeed. Their farm is a menagerie of dogs, cats, pigs, turkeys, sheep; you name it Jo and Liney have probably either got one or have reared one at some point. And they have managed to deal with everything the West Wales weather has thrown at them in the 6 years or so since they moved in.

But I had to ask … what exactly does a free-range pig farmer actually do all day? I have to admit, the response didn’t sound like the dawn ‘til dark never-ending grind of the farm I was expecting. “We get up about 7am, feed the pigs and walk the dogs before breakfast,” Liney said. “Then we go back out and do what needs doing – it might be mending a fence, some building work, fixing things that have broken, all sorts of stuff really.” Then it’s lunch at around 12.30, more jobs in the afternoon and another round of feeding the animals before finishing up for the day at 5-ish. Jo manages to squeeze in some part-time working from home for her previous employer – “it’s a little bit of a cushion, so the whole thing isn’t a complete gamble,” she says, although she would love to give it up completely one day. But all in all there’s generally still time to get out to the local village hall to learn a ballroom dance or two! They admit to being hooked by Strictly Come Dancing – and their own favourite dance? They couldn’t pin one down – they love them all – “although the tango’s quite sexy!”

Visitors to the cottages are able to buy meat that has been home reared, free-range by Liney and Jo. “But, don’t you get attached to all the pigs?” I asked. “Don’t you want to keep them all?” “We don’t name the ones we’re not keeping,” they said. It makes perfect sense. I mean tucking into a ‘pork chop’ would be so much easier than tucking into Peter the Pig don’t you think? And on the point of pigs: “How did you decide what breed of pigs to farm?” I asked. A pig is a pig is a pig, is it not? Apparently not. Middle White and Tamworth are rare breeds which I’m informed are good for outdoors, so appreciate the whole free-range lifestyle.

Whilst being a meat eater and a lover of bacon and pork in general I’m ashamed to say that I thought a pig – any pig – produced both bacon and joints/chops and the like, but again, apparently not. I am reliably informed that Middle Whites produce really good pork joints and chops, and a Middle White crossed with a Tamworth produces fabulous bacon. The irony is not lost on me that like many meat eaters I think I would become too attached to the pigs to actually kill them but Jo and Liney are matter of fact about the reality of their jobs. “We give them a really good life and they give us really good meat in return,” is their philosophy, and you can’t really say fairer than that.

“So with the whole farm experience,” I ask, “what’s the job that you hate doing most?” “Feeding in November when it’s foggy, wet and there’s horizontal rain coming at you – that isn’t much fun,” says Liney. “But then feeding on a bright sunny, winter’s day with the view down the valley is just lovely,” counters Jo. Liney, a former police officer and Jo, an IT specialist have an appreciation of the weather that they didn’t have in their former lives – “you’re just so aware of the seasons – you’re so close to nature, there’s no question that there’s an external force governing everything.” They have learnt to be resourceful too. “We’ve done things here we never thought we’d be capable of doing before we came here,” they say. “We’ve turned our hands to so many things – building, plumbing, you name it we’ve tried it, and more often than not managed it too. You get a great feeling of satisfaction and pride even, being able to sort things out yourself, it’s great.”

So, any regrets? “Not one,” is the resounding response. But that doesn’t mean that things won’t change. There are lots of changes afoot on the farm this year. Not only did Jo and Liney get hitched, but they have also passed the rigorous selection process to become foster parents, the first gay couple to have done so in their area. They are looking forward to their new roles and have already reduced the numbers of sows they have so they can free up some time to spend with the children that will be placed with them. 

Life at Lanlas – the good life suddenly got a whole lot better.