This Little Piggy Went To Mansion

Farmer H never ceases to infuriate amaze me. Last evening, he drove the riding mower (on a trailer, of course) to town to mow the yard at my mom's house. He'd been gone three hours when I noticed he wasn't back yet.

"Pony? How long does it take Dad to mow Grandma's yard?"

"I don't know. An hour? Maybe two."

"He's been gone a long time. I guess he's okay."

"Probably."

"Maybe I should call and check on him."

"Maybe."

"I will. Next commercial."

No need to spoil the double feature of Big Brother and The Briefcase that we had recorded to view without commercials. So the next time we came to commercials, I let them play, and called Farmer H.

"Where are you?"

"Over at the BARn putting diesel in my new tractor."

"You were gone long time. Hey. You bought that tractor thinking it took regular gas, didn't you?"

"No."

"Yes. You always complain how diesel used to be the cheapest, but now it costs more. I can't imagine you'd buy a diesel tractor knowingly. Your old one wasn't diesel, was it."

"I knew. And the old one ran on regular gas."

So he proclaimed. After a while he came in the house to report that he'd talked to the neighbors at Mom's house about our selling price. Doesn't matter right now, because my cousin has first option. So when The Pony snorted, I told Farmer H that we were in the middle of our shows. Off he went back upstairs. Later, when I went to bed, I checked my phone and saw that he had sent me THIS right before coming back over to the Mansion.

WTF? What is it? To me, upstairs at the kitchen counter plugging in my cell phone, looking at that on my email without benefit of the worst glasses I ever bought...it appeared to be a pig with a tumor on its back. How dare Farmer H buy a pig without consulting me!

We are not having pigs. My grandpa had pigs, and they STINK. Not a single pig will be kept on the Mansion grounds. Especially one with a tumor on its back! I couldn't wait until morning to let Farmer H have it. Not the pig. A piece of my mind! There I was, worried whether he was all right, and he was out buying a pig!

Well. I forgot this morning, what with Farmer H leaving at 6:00 a.m., and me just getting up at that time, barely instructing him on how to breathe in/breathe out all day, and check with my cousin about whether our price is acceptable (they work together). So later this morning, while cleaning out my old bedroom, not to my sister the ex-mayor's wife satisfaction, I might add...I sent Farmer H a text asking WHAT that picture was.

"Oh, that's Goatrude. A chicken flew up and perched on her back, and seemed perfectly content."

He dodged the pig bullet this time. So I am saving my chastisement. I know I'll need it one of these days.