Racing over to them, I discovered where they had purchased it. Telling my boothmates that I would be back, I grabbed my purse and headed toward The Pigman. (Paul Zindel--where are you when I need you?)
Did I need a pig?
Do I collect pigs?
Would this make a great gift for someone I knew?
No, no and no. But still my feet propelled me toward the booth with the pigs.
|photo by Laughing Squid|
There was only one large pig left. Like the other one, it had wings attached. Blue body. Orange feet. Red ears. Yellow wings. And rusty scratches and weld-marks all over, adding to the "character" of the pig.
I cannot explain it, but that pig spoke to me. And to make my desire even more inexplicable, our house is tiny. We have two small bedrooms, one bathroom, (I would kill for a second bathroom!) a kitchen too small to eat in, and our "greatroom." I laughingly call it that because it is definitely not huge, but serves as our livingroom/familyroom/diningroom (with TV trays)/recreation room (wrestling with the dogs for a spot on the couch)/entertainment room (that's where the TV is).
And I told the welder-artist that: it doesn't "go" with any of our "decor," I don't really have room for it, but it spoke to me. And the artist--wisely--did not argue with my crazy impulse.
The pig hid in my car for several days, until I could bring it into the house, cloaked in darkness, along with my coat thrown over it, so I could find a spot for it before my husband caught onto another piece of junk being in the house. (He sees a thrift store and floors it, while I attempt to catch a glimpse of the goodies I'm missing as we fly by at 93 mph.)
There are many things that will probably only happen when pigs fly. Getting back down to 150 pounds. Finding some technology that will hoist up my breasts so they hover above the two-feet-off-the-ground mark. Being able to tear Viggo Mortensen/Johnny Depp/Mark Harmon/Benecio Del Toro away from any skanky girlfriend/wife they have settled for. Another "when pigs fly" accomplishment: getting a book published...
Three days after I bought the pig, I heard from Louella Turner of High Hill Press. She says her publishing company might be interested in a picture book manuscript of mine.
Is this possible success due to years of writing and revising and response groups? Is this glimmer of hope the result of a modicum of writing talent? Is this dream coming true due to hard work and persistence?
Or is it the work of the Magic Pig?
My money is on the pig...
|My Magic Pig|
|Mine! All mine! If you want to rent him,|
please contact me for the details.
If you want to buy your own pig, I don't know if John Everett has the materials in stock to create another one, but you can contact him at firstname.lastname@example.org. His website is http://www.irondecornmore.com/. He's located in Grafton, Illinois, not too far outside of St. Louis, Missouri. His cell phone is 314-607-0407.