Draw a pumpkin! Draw a pumpkin!
Is that the cutest Halloween Aminal you have ever seen or not? [I know, I know, Gay I will post Chloe Belle later this week.] Guinea Pig was originally named Dina until we figgered out that he was a boy (don’t ask) and were beyond thinking up names by then except for things like Eagle Bait or Toilet Brush et al. He was the *best* Halloween aminal ever. He was almost totally black except for a couple of white toes and the GG used to hold him while greeting trick-or-treaters. He would blend right into the GG’s black sweater.
He belonged to the older beach urchin me. Okay, technically he was Lizard Breath’s aminal but after she went to college, he was mostly mine! I remember shortly after we got Guinea Pig when we came to the realization that they actually lived longer than a couple years and the GG said, “We’re gonna have him after the kids go to college.” And we did. And I loved him. Rest in peace, small aminal.
Anyway, he belonged to the kid young woman (ulp) who said in yesterday’s comments what I *tried* to say in my blasted blahg, except she was much more eloquent. I may get paid to write gazillion-page functional specifications but there are more than a few reasons why I don’t usually write about politics. I did NOT beat that stuff into her brain. When I read it, I felt a bit like Mr. Toad, sitting in the road after being run over by a motorcar. Why couldn’t *I* have said that? Both the beach urchins have been heard to say, “You guys raised us on the Planet Ann Arbor and sent us to an alternative high school. What did you expect?” Uh, yeah. Me? Sault High, 1972.
Of course, before all of the above, the beach urchin was once two years old. The GG took her to Farmer Grant’s to pick out a pumpkin (or two or five) and when it was time to leave, she toddled around and said good-bye to all of the pumpkins that they weren’t taking with them. And that was also the year that the GG probably drew about 15 brazillion pumpkins. “Draw a pumpkin, Daddy!” Over and over and over again. You give a two-year-old a truckload of crayons and let ’em go and what do they do? They ask *you* to draw. After all, your drawing is better than theirs. Did you know that?
October 29th, 2008 at 7:51 pm
The Correct Story:
It wasn’t Farmer Grants. It was in the yard of a house on Miller Road. The yard was full of pumpkins. I’m sure that Elizabeth thought they were a little bit more than inanimate objects. She said good-bye to the individual pumpkins.
The Trauma:
We took a couple pumpkins home….. to be carved. When I shoved a big knife into one of the pumpkins, Elizabeth FREAKED! She held her hands up to her head (they don’t have to be very old to figure that it isn’t good business to stick a knife into a head). It took a while to calm her down and get her properly adjusted to a carved pumpkin. She did get adjusted. I just wonder what kind of life-long scar I created in her mind.
October 29th, 2008 at 11:24 pm
I’ve never had a guinea pig, but it looks adorable–like a stuffed animal. Do they have lots of personality? I never feel like I can post well about politics either. My husband and I just had a wee argument about politics; he listens to talk radio and so was telling me all about “socialists” and “Marxists” while I was gritting my teeth. (and succeeding in not strangling him, but barely)
October 30th, 2008 at 7:48 am
We had six guinea pigs over the course of many years, all girls. Well, there was Hershey, the class guinea pig, who came for Thanksgiving weekend. Hershey was supposedly a girl, but his heroics in scaling the side of his glass aquarium and launching himself over the top to plop into Minnie and Jessie’s cage showed that a more accurate name might have been Him-He rather than Hershey. Guineas do have different personalities, and are more affectionate than hamsters, but less so than dogs or cats.
October 30th, 2008 at 9:40 am
Pooh says it well. I lobbied against getting a guinea pig. For one thing, I just didn’t want the responsibility of taking care of an animal. My brother’s dog for a week or two every summer was enough. 😉 Also, I remembered when I was about 10 and a friend’s guinea pig birthed a genetically deformed “monster” baby. And that’s about all I remembered about guinea pigs. Our guinea pig turned out be very social and had a “sparkling” personality. And he was happy to be confined to a generously sized cage.
October 30th, 2008 at 1:36 pm
don’t forget about the three white hairs in the middle of his forehead! and his name was Piglet. or Piggy. not “Guinea Pig”. p.s. you need another one.