The China Pig and the Saint

Happy Sunday!  I had planned on sleeping in just a little this morning but we forgot to lock the chickens in the chicken coup last night and so at 4:50 am the two roosters (Starsky & Hutch) chose to thank me for a day of freedom by sitting directly under my open bedroom window and crowing their brains out.  Grrrrr!  Ok, I'm awake!!!  But the sun is up now and it will be a beautiful day.  I was supposed to go to Silverwood today with my little granddaughter Aubrey (not quite two) and Daniel and Nicole and Nicole's family but I have decided to stay home and catch up on my garden and make a great big ole pot of spaghetti with garlic bread and salad for when they return all hungry and tired.  Guess which parts of that meal I won't be eating :)

This morning I was relieved to find that my weight had not jumped back up after loosing the two pounds or so on my week in the west but actually dropped just a tiny bit.  The fatometer read 154.2 this morning and my glucose was 105 so definitely inching back down towards normal (even with the ONE bite of chocolate pudding cake I made for everyone else last night).  I have now officially lost just a hair over 15 lbs and will soon be making the appointment for new blood work and hope to impress Dr. Z with my good (mostly) behavior much improved blood chemistry.

And now for the China Pig part.  My dad sent me this little story from my childhood and I am happy to include it here since this time it is not recounting some embarrassing event that happened to me.  This china pig actually provided me with many a summer days enjoyment.  Any of you who know my mother Molly will know what a saint she is - after all she is still married to Wally after 50 something years :)  Anyway... it is not often that she gets caught red handed... :)

THE CHINA PIG

When we lived in Birmingham, and the kids were small, all my pocket change went into a large china pig. It was my intention to use the savings for our summer vacation. It was, usually, a week or so in Tennessee, where my wife, molly, was born and raised. My change consisted of nickels, dimes, quarters, and half dollars. It should amount to three to five hundred dollars--plenty for a vacation in those days.

One evening after work, I said, “let’s bust the china pig and count the money”. My wife quickly objected and said, “oh no, it’s such a pretty pig!” I adamantly declared that, “I had saved for this vacation and I was ready to go“. I went and got a hammer and struck the pig, which shattered and coins spilled out like a waterfall. To my amazement I saw that the coins were all copper colored. I cried out, “they’re all pennies“. My wife, quickly commented, “it’s a miracle!” With a lot of skepticism, I prodded my wife to admit that every afternoon, the Good Humor ice cream truck would come dinging into our neighborhood and kids would pour out of houses like a plague of rats. Out would come the table knife and silver coins would come sliding out of the pig on the knife blade and were out the front door like a flash of mercury. I never saved coins after that. So, go bust the china pig. My birthday is coming and I’m worth it.

Wally Taylor