Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans.
- John Lennon
This little piggy went to market
This little piggy stayed home
This little piggy had roast beef
This little piggy had none
And this little piggy cried "wee wee wee" all the way home
- Nursery rhyme
Photo taken by author This year was the biggest yet. They judged over 200 guinea pigs, and had more than 200 people filtered through to show pigs, look at pigs, or support those who do one or the other.
My wife and I work the kitchen. We get up early, prepare breakfast for them, and then serve them lunch. Our reward is the joy of serving them, and the church gets some donation money. It's a great way to spend the day, but it wears us out.
This year, I decided to take a few photos to show off on Steemit. So enjoy a little fur.
This little piggy won the Best of Show award. It's what they call an American guinea pig. That's the name of the breed. If his name isn't "Pretty Boy," it should be.
Photo taken by blockurator (aka Allen Taylor)
One of my favorite of the guineas was this bad boy they call an Abyssianian, characterized by its ringed cornets. The fur has something like a depression in it where the fur spreads out leaving an indention, and there are several of these side by side at its midsection as well as on its rear. They each make an ring around its body. I found it to be a very interesting design, and it grows that way naturally.
Photo taken by blockurator
Now, when I hear the word "Abyssinian," I think of Samuel Taylor Coleridge's epic poem "Kubla Khan." The poem has some of my favorite opening lines in all of literature:
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
But its the third stanza where Coleridge introduces his readers to the Abyssinian maid:
A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
You'll have to read the rest of the poem yourself, one of my favorite from among the romantics. But if you'll pardon the literary excursion, we can head back to the guinea pigs.
Below are the winners and their trophies. Below that is the judge making a ruling.
Photo taken by blockurator
Photo taken by blockurator
While the show was a fun event, I'm glad it happens only once a year. I'm not much into guinea pigs, but I enjoy watching these little critters enjoy themselves as their big critter masters do the same.
Don't Let That Boy Steal Home!
As the opening epigraph to this post suggests, I was busy this week planning some things that didn't quite take place because life got in the way. I've learned to just accept that and roll with the punches, go with the flow. That's important to me because much of what gets interrupted are small pebbles in the jar of my life. The big pebbles are the pleasant distractions, like watching my grandsons play baseball.
My oldest, 15 years old, had four games this past week. Needless to say, we did a lot of traveling. His mother works nights, so my wife and I sponsor all the extra curriculars for our grandchildren. In the final game of the week, on Friday, it rained three out of five innings. At the end of the fifth inning, the umpire called it. He was tired of getting wet.
It was in that fifth inning when my grandson stole home. He had walked to first, stole second, and stole third. Now, on a pitch, he tried to steal home. The pitcher threw the ball, it raced past the catcher and hit the back stop, and my grandson beat feet to the plate.
I wish I had my camera rolling on this because it was classic baseball. The catcher ran and grabbed the ball then headed back to guard the plate. He got there just in time to make the play. Unfortunately for him, my grandson slid right between his legs his broad shoulders plowing into the stumps of the shorter boy, knocking him off his feet. The catcher hit the dirt and dropped the ball.
Before I knew it, I was out of my chair and yelping, "That's how you slide into home!" I was more than a little bit proud.
The ump was about the call the runner out. His arm was pumped and the beginning of the word was on his lips, then he saw the ball. Arms flew out to his side and he yelled, "Safe!" My grandson, sitting straight up now on top of home plate, threw his arms into the air and shouted a victory yell, "Yeah!" The rain didn't seem to bother him at all.
Image taken by author O, Where Is Romeo?
And we love each other. Through it all: baseball, guinea pigs, and cherry picking, our family sticks together like siamese twins at a bathroom visit. But someone should have reminded my grandson of Lady Montague's infamous assertion:
Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe.
That was good advice, but not well taken. Lord Montague was never one to back down from a fight. In the end, however, he and that Capulet fellow decided upon a truce. Sorry about the spoiler, but I figured you've read the story by now, or least have seen the movie. In 3D, perhaps?
Actually, I'm glad no one warned my grandson. He wouldn't have listened anyway, and it was fun watching him take out the catcher. We've taken to calling him "The Sweeper."
At any rate, if you haven't seen Romeo & Juliet on the silver screen, I'll end this little peek into my life with a photo of Lady Montague resting her pour old aching body. Okay, she's not quite old and not really aching. She's just another member of our family enjoying a moment of solitude before feeding time. She's almost two years old. Meet Lady Montague.
And yet another image by your humble author
So, we'll be back at playing baseball again this coming week. Soon, the season will be over and we'll move on to something else. Keep us in your prayers.
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