Pigspam, with bonus cat and dog: Alfie and Kuzco outside. (And a few thoughts on Dink.)

Haven't done one of these in a while, have I? I come bearing pigspam. With bonus cat! and dog! and video!


( Om nom nom nom nom. )

Woof'll do that more or less endlessly when they're outside, pausing only to sit by their cage and stare at them while she catches her breath. The pigs are her babies, her beloveds, and few things bring her more joy than pseudo-herding them. (Woof is currently fighting a skin infection, and so has irritation and missing fur on her rump. You probably didn't notice it before, but you will now; regardless, rest assure that she's being treated.)

The outside enclosure is the top of the travel/temporary pig cage, stuck in the middle of the yard; Devon's dad mowed around it so that the pigs would have lush burrowable grass within.

When uploading the video I wandered back to my older guinea pig vids, which include Dink. As much as I don't miss, I don't mourn, as much as these concepts are to me foreign ... I miss him. Not constantly, not daily, but watching him—my lovely, my sweetheart, chocolate-brown with that pointy nose and his big ears and his little white spots, his intelligent eyes, his liveliness—my heart breaks all over again and I want nothing more than to hold him. All the better reason to celebrate the pigs that remain, but—

But what, I don't even know. I love him and wish he were still here.

The irony (if that's word for it) is that the other day I took Kuzco out and he was acting listless and sleepy, and I was instantly worried. I kept a close eye on him all day, but his eyes and nose were sparkling clear, he was pudgy, and mostly it just seemed that he wanted to sleep. I was checking on him late that evening when I found out that Devon's father had taken the pigs out earlier that day, and Kuzco got fifteen minutes more than Alfie (because Alfie started being a butthead). He wasn't sick. He wasn't off his food. He was full.

So, yes. The blessing is that I still have batshit crazy pig and adorable tiny pig, and even if my baby has left me there is still great joy to be found in those two boys, and they are healthy—and well.

Book Review: Picnic at Hanging Rock by Joan Lindsay

Title: Picnic at Hanging Rock
Author: Joan Lindsay
Published: Cutchogue: Buccaneer Books, 1967
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 212
Total Page Count: 86,702
Text Number: 249
Read Because: mentioned in Caitlín R. Kiernan's The Red Tree, borrowed from the library
Review: On St. Valentine's Day, 1900, three girls and a teacher disappear from a school picnic at a local landmark called Hanging Rock. Only one of them will ever return. Picnic at Hanging Rock follows the events and fallout surrounding this mystery. The book is a view of the sublime: a natural wonder, concurrently beautiful and frightening, viewed through the eyes of those standing in its vast, dark shadow. At only 200 pages and written in a clean, clever voice, Picnic at Hanging Rock is a short book—but never simple. Its tone is at once gentle and morbid, equally suited to the dreamy hauntings and harsh fates that follow the events at Hanging Rock. Much of the book's complexity arises from the fact that its entire premise is an unsolved mystery. It offers more questions than answers, but it does so with quiet, thoughtful intent. In sprinklings of detail, dark implications, and suspicious events, the book sketches the shadow cast by Hanging Rock; its unsolved mysteries invite the reader into the story to engage and interpret, emerging with their own understanding of the events and their own view of that vast shadow—but perhaps no answers. The lack of answers is unsettling and for some readers may be unfulfilling, but those in search of something atmospheric and thoughtful, shadowed and intriguing, will do well to pick up Picnic at Hanging Rock. I recommend it.

(I add in brief that I also recommend the film based on this book. The book and film are quite similar, but the book offers more detail while the film better capture the ghostly atmosphere. Each stands alone, but they are beautiful in tandem—perhaps best with the book first.)

Review posted here on Amazon.com.