Five little pigs

March 24, 2009 § Leave a comment

This little piggy went to market
This little piggy stayed home
This little piggy ate roast beef and
This little piggy had none.
And THIS little piggy cried “whee! whee! whee! whee!” all the way home.

Can you guess which little piggy I am? I’ll give you a hint:

Whee!

The racing these days is nothing to speak of. My mojo seems to be gone, my head is getting in the way. It’s highly frustrating to know that I have all the tools I need while I choke weekend after weekend after weekend.

In related news, I’m rediscovering that I have a real knack for composing awful, tortured poetry. Perhaps I missed my calling.

Racing aside, Mr. Man and I managed to squeak out a little fun this weekend:

No snakes on the roads near Orosi, but I did find a dead bat on the road (I will spare you the pictures, it will suffice to say: “awesome!”) and we were sized up by a teeny-tiny puppy with his little hackles raised.

I worked the neutral feed zone, & was amazed that people who didn’t bother to arrange feeds for themselves would actually try to demand particular bottles from those of us standing out there. Why, no, sir, unfortunately I cannot grab you the tall red bottle sitting next to the crate over there while you are barreling down on me. That is, unless you would like to stop and wait for a volunteer to walk over there? No? In that case I will just thank you for screaming your…request at me with such passion.

The wind on Saturday evening was so strong that we saw it start a water spout with the pool. It tossed the patio charis all over and hovered above the surface, picking up water and painting a rainbow. Spectacular.

Every year when we go to Visalia we like to window shop at all the bridal/prom/drag queen dress shops. I honestly can’t believe that people buy some of these things. It was especially fun when I was in the market for a wedding dress; I’d find the most hideous poufy dress in each window & say to Mr. Man “Look! It’s my wedding dress!” As we headed to dinner on Saturday night, he stopped in front of the dress stores and told me he had found my wedding dress. I chuckled at the silver sequinned ball gown in the middle of the display & agreed that it was terrible, but as I started walking away he stopped me and pointed to a dress in the corner of the display. Which was, for all intents and purposes, my wedding dress.

Karma, baby. Ooooooh, it stings.

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