The pigs come from a farmer near Hodgeville, in nicely cut halves, so they don't look too cutely pig-like anymore (much as I'd like to be able to take responsibility for making sure what I eat has a good life and death, it's just not going to happen for me). The morning is spent cutting out the pork chops, ribs, and roasts, then cutting up the rest into bits for either the meat grinder (hello, sausage!), the cauldron (the lard lumps get boiled down, and the crispy meat bits are skimmed off for crackles), or the garbage (all those yucky bits that you don't want to eat, but do when you buy your meat in the store...). The ground pork gets piped into long coils of casings which are hung and smoked with hickory chips before they are packaged into nice little packets for the freezer.
Though I don't see the pigs before they arrive to be made into meat, it is a nice thing to know what goes into your meat, and to know that it came from a place nearby -a small farm that doesn't force their animals to live in terrible conditions. And did I mention the TASTE??