|About me:||There is a house nestled on the high hills of the Yorkshire Moors. If you pass by you will think that it is a nice row of houses or that it is wonderful view. If you do this it will be on a summer's day at any other time you will not pass this way. You will not be brave or stupid enough to be outside during the seasons that follow. You will not face driving winds or snows; you will not see the valley below this house fill with freezing fog or watch as the snow rolls in like a sea storm.
Neither will you think as you pass beneath blue skies across fields full of wild flowers and inquisitive cows, that behind this tiny house bordered by an exploding, overflowing cottage garden, that there is a quarter of an acre spreading uphill and facing south.
That house is Pig Row. It is not merely a house or a view. It is a way of life.