By Christmas most people had done with hog slaughtering. At the beginning of January the big old chest freezer at Kroeger's Tavern had close to a dozen pig heads in it waiting to be made into head cheese.
In past years Rose Thoresen had done most of the work. Last year she had made a point of getting Maggie Starbuck and the Baxter girls involved, but no one knew if they could do it right. Old Anton could do it better than anyone and had a special mix of pickling spices, or so he said - if he'd only sober up for a couple of days.
The Kroegers put up a sign. A fire was lit out behind the tavern and the old wash caldron on its tripod set over it. It was filled with water and the frozen hog heads tossed in. People stood around drinking beer and toasting hot dogs and marshmallows at the fire. Maggie Starbuck came by and threw in handfuls of salt and topped up the water and skimmed off the scum from time to time.
Maggie's dad and Mr. Kroeger got out their fiddles and a few people danced in their heavy boots and down jackets. Mr. Kroeger was playing with his gloves on and it sounded like it.
They let the heads cook all day. Around dinner time Maggie raked out the fire and waited for the caldron to cool down so she could skim off the fat.
Around midnight she was using a pitch fork to haul the heads out of the caldron. She set all twelve of them on the table in the tavern kitchen. She had them all facing her. She'd been drinking all day. She lit up a cigarette and leaned back in her chair and reviewed the troops.
``Well well well,'' she said, ``well dang me. Where are your friends when you need them?''
Everyone else was long gone. The last drinker had shuffled home in the icy darkness.
Maggie took an axe and split each skull down the middle, doing irrepairable damage to the table. She stripped all the meat, the tongue, the brain from each skull. She fed it through the big meat grinder at the end of the table and hauled it in buckets back to the caldron. She raked the coals back under the caldron and restarted the fire. She went back into the tavern and passed out in Mr. Kroeger's recliner.
She awoke to a slight smell of roasting meat - or was it burning meat? She raced out to find the caldron almost dry. The hose had been flung down filled with water and was frozen solid. She ran with a water bucket to throw in the caldron.
In the morning people came with crocks and bowls and Maggie ladled out the meaty mess to all.
``Its really thick this year,'' said Mr. Kroeger.
``Tastes a little - different,'' said Anton.
``We would have helped you if we'd known,'' said the Baxter girls.
Most people said it was good.
There was a feed at the tavern. Cold sliced head cheese served on a bed of hot instant mashed potatoes with a blob of ketchup.
``You done good, Maggie,'' the Kroegers said.
``I ain't doing it next year,'' she answered. ``Let them Baxters do it.''
But the Kroegers were already thinking of the possum feed they planned for mother's day.