I woke up hard, dusty, and sore, as happens when you fall asleep in the dirt and the straw of the stables. I felt a yen for a smoke and maybe eggs, but I needed to get my bearings first. Through the stable door, across the yard, I saw some piglets suckling at an exhausted looking sow, the runt of the litter trying to find purchase amid the scramble of the mass of wriggling pink skin. I’ve always liked the runts. You play the cards you’re dealt and scramble with the rest. Pa