In the winter of 1954 when we needed the extra income, Wayne helped a family build a new house at Wichita, Kansas. This meant I was the one who had to do the farm chores while Wayne was away. One of the jobs I hated most was trying to feed the separated milk to our 30 pigs. I got very tired of climbing the board fence to dump the separated milk into the hog trough. The trough was made of heavy 2X12 lumber and about 8 feet long. Those dastardly pigs would crowd around to the very front of the trough and fight for the milk when I tried to pour it in their trough. Most of the milk ran off of their heads onto the ground. Nothing I tried worked. They only got part of the milk that I tried to feed them.

I sized up the situation and discovered there was just barely enough space under the bottom fence board for the trough to slide under. I tugged and tugged until I finally got that heavy trough pulled out from under the bottom board about a foot. Now, I could pour the milk into the trough from the outside without the pigs interfering. The same went for the water hose being used. I could just hook it outside of the fence and let it run. It was easy for Wayne to climb the wood fence with a bucket of milk. For me, it was very hard thing to accomplish.
Everything went great with feeding the pigs that week and I was so proud of myself. When Wayne returned home for the weekend he thought my handiwork was less than smart. I was deflated; I thought my idea was ingenious. I still feel the same way some 50+ years later. Maybe he was upset because he had not thought of it first. Pigs are still not my favorite animal.