The fear in my heart is rising. I have been in a state of, let’s call it confusion, since Wednesday. We finally called “the pig man”, which had been on our list of things to do for a fortnight. Things went surprising well, I think, and you see, here in lies the turmoil. Jump back two weeks and picture a quiet evening. My better half, Colin, was sitting on the couch watching TV with one eye and browsing Trademe on the Ipad with the other.
“I’ve sent a message to a man about a pig,” He declared.
That was the beginning and the end of the conversation. We post many questions to Trademe at strange times in the evening as one brain fart invariably leads to another and dreams of a sustainable life in the country play with our minds. Anyway, back to Ross, the pig man, as he was previously referred to. Two days later Ross calls, he seems a good sort, not a man to mix his words or beat around the bush to pretty things up. He wants to talk to Colin, about a pig. No, I probably can’t help he tells me but I can get Colin to call him when he gets home.
As brief and concise as Ross is, I myself, can occasionally, I freely admit be somewhat more easily distracted, romantic, and well, airy fairy. Excited and scared at the prospect of a new addition to the family. It takes me a week to get Colin to call Ross. He, and I are expecting Ross to explain that the reason he no longer has a pig advertised on Trademe, is that he no longer has a pig to sell. A fair assumption you’d think. Surprisingly the conversation between Colin and Ross goes something more like this:
“Hi Ross, Colin here, I sent you a note about a pig a few weeks ago.”
“Oh yes, I remember, you’re not far away.”
“No, that’s right, I’m just wondering if you still have any pigs.”
“Just the one.”
“When will it be ready?”
“26th, Saturday.”
“OK, well, I’d like to take him if he’s not spoken for but I can wait for him if he’s not quite ready.”
“Oh, no, he’s yours, I’ve already lost one, don’t want to lose another, Saturday it is, don’t be too early though.”
“OK, I’ll call before I come over.”
“Lovely 9.30 then.”
So, forward a couple of days and we’re at Thursday, tomorrow is Anzac Day and we’ll be up early making preparations for Percy or Percilina, depending, not sure which, still a bit dazed. A little bit scared as hell of the hard questions too. What did Ross mean by “lost one”? How big is this pig? How much will it eat? Will we get the pen done in time? Will the food supply that we’ve arranged actually eventuate? Please, wish us luck. Can’t wait to meet our new friend. I hope it settles in well.
“I’ve sent a message to a man about a pig,” He declared.
That was the beginning and the end of the conversation. We post many questions to Trademe at strange times in the evening as one brain fart invariably leads to another and dreams of a sustainable life in the country play with our minds. Anyway, back to Ross, the pig man, as he was previously referred to. Two days later Ross calls, he seems a good sort, not a man to mix his words or beat around the bush to pretty things up. He wants to talk to Colin, about a pig. No, I probably can’t help he tells me but I can get Colin to call him when he gets home.
As brief and concise as Ross is, I myself, can occasionally, I freely admit be somewhat more easily distracted, romantic, and well, airy fairy. Excited and scared at the prospect of a new addition to the family. It takes me a week to get Colin to call Ross. He, and I are expecting Ross to explain that the reason he no longer has a pig advertised on Trademe, is that he no longer has a pig to sell. A fair assumption you’d think. Surprisingly the conversation between Colin and Ross goes something more like this:
“Hi Ross, Colin here, I sent you a note about a pig a few weeks ago.”
“Oh yes, I remember, you’re not far away.”
“No, that’s right, I’m just wondering if you still have any pigs.”
“Just the one.”
“When will it be ready?”
“26th, Saturday.”
“OK, well, I’d like to take him if he’s not spoken for but I can wait for him if he’s not quite ready.”
“Oh, no, he’s yours, I’ve already lost one, don’t want to lose another, Saturday it is, don’t be too early though.”
“OK, I’ll call before I come over.”
“Lovely 9.30 then.”
So, forward a couple of days and we’re at Thursday, tomorrow is Anzac Day and we’ll be up early making preparations for Percy or Percilina, depending, not sure which, still a bit dazed. A little bit scared as hell of the hard questions too. What did Ross mean by “lost one”? How big is this pig? How much will it eat? Will we get the pen done in time? Will the food supply that we’ve arranged actually eventuate? Please, wish us luck. Can’t wait to meet our new friend. I hope it settles in well.