Burning Bales

We’ve had a few problems these past few nights with cinghiale (wild boar) coming down from the hills to forage for the local produce due to be harvested, part of this is possibly because they know it’s harvest time and pomegranates and sweet corn are ripe and in part to it being hunting season, so many become displaced by hunters; for hunters please read, nutters in high-vis jackets taking pot shots at anything that moves, including each other. So far this year, the tally of hunters accidentally shot in Italy by fellow hunters is 29.

Last night I was talking to Loui, he told me that they’ll leave a straw bale burning outside the farm entrance and at the rear to deter the marauding hogs, he also warned me to keep an eye on the dogs. “Would you like a bale of straw to burn?” he asked me, I declined his offer, worried that knowing my luck I’d set fire to the car and eventually blow up the top of the lane, leading to a major fire that will wipe out the olive groves surrounding us. “Well, you’d best mark the road.” I gave him a puzzled look and he thought for a while, then acted out, peeing in a straight line. I smiled, nodded my head and responded, “Ho capito.”

So today as gunshots crack the early autumn air, every time I’ve felt the need to pee I’ve been up at the top of the lane, keeping a keen eye out for passing traffic as I pee in a straight line, creating an invisible barrier across the land that leads down to our house.


  Did it work? I’m not entirely sure, but we didn’t get a visit from the boar last night, and had a barking dog free night.

  Or maybe word has got out in the wild pig population, that there’s a strange man making a fence out of pee, so they’ve decided that running the  gauntlet with the nutters with guns is a saner option.

Picture via, free-picture.net