Image courtesy of LA Times Blogs.
I nearly killed an entire family of wild pigs on Saturday morning. It was thrilling. Not to almost kill them but to have them dashing out in front of my car, the mom, and all 6000 of her babies, one of whom nearly lost it's life under my meal wheel. I guess there were about 8 babies, all the size of a nice pork roast. The mom would have put my vertical hotrod in the shop though. The brakes work well. Maybe the car would have been totaled by Mom Wild Pig's massive girth, and I would have been eaten alive by wild piglets. Talk about karma.
At least these animals weren't in my house (for once). Wild pigs are very skittish -- they don't stand still for the camera.
I have poison oak. I wrote a blurb a few weeks ago about minimum hugs for well-being. I don't get many hugs unless I force my neighbors and weirdos from the resort up the road to hug me. I could stand in an intersection with a cardboard sign -- that would probably work to get more hugs, though I could see myself getting all uppity if someone filthy or dirty or nasty or grungy or disgusting or tacky or penniless or good-for-nothing or my X, or really just about anyone jump out of their vehicle to offer me a hug. What if I had to pay? I'd be considered aloof.Then I'd lose my place at the intersection to a real person in need, someone with money or job issues. I'd probably get fewer hugs than I do now.
About a week ago, Eric came over and did some much needed weed-whacking for me. Upon his departure, I got a few hugs. He knows the rules. I have to have the hugs. He reluctantly gave me a few hugs, warning me in advance about the poison oak oils on his weed-whacked stained clothing. Now I have poison oak. I found a bump on my back and thinking it was tick or a zit, I zapped it. Uh, not a good idea, tick or zit, though especially not poison oak. I have poison oak in about a dozen spots now. All this for a hug. Fun!
Thirty two years ago yesterday, I spent my day in labor. At the end of that day, I gave birth to twin boys who weighed too much, 14 lbs., 9 oz (I wonder who they took after?) Once again reluctantly, Eric had to spend time in order for me to pretend to celebrate his birthday. I took two birthday cards, one from his grandmother and one from the homeowners insurance sales person. I also gave Eric a Peet's coffee card. That was a last minute gift - I wasn't planning on buying him anything. What do you buy people who need nothing? I sent a card to my son in Hawaii and put all cash I had in my wallet ($7.00) inside the card along with some photos of me when I was fatter.
Jia Tellas. I sat there, annoying him with my attempts at conversation, watching him eat though I had a few small bites of chicken. Yum! Opening his birthday cards, Eric was annoyed because one card actually had the nerve to have glitter on it. Eric said, "I hate glitter." By the end of the meal, I had both cards back in my purse to take home for the recycle bin though at my car door, I got four hugs, my minimum daily requirement plus several photos. Eric may not like birthday celebrations much, and he maybe a glitterhater but he's not as skittish as a wild pig.