Pig Talk - A Fly in the Oinkment

My watercolor, "The Three Not-So-Little Pigs"

 
    #1: Did you hear about the pig who opened a pawnshop?  He calls it "Ham Hocks".

     #2: Q: What does a pig say when he's been in the sun too long?  
A: I'm bakin'!

     #3: Q: What is a pig's favorite karate move?   A: The pork chop.

     #4: Q: What does a pig do after school?   A: Hamwork.

     #5: Q: What did the pig say when he was on fire?   A: I smell bacon.


     #6: Q: What does a pig do while playing basketball?   A: Hog the ball.

     #7: Q: Why did the pig go to the casino?   A: To play the slop machines.

     #8: Q: How did the pig win at Monopoly?   A: He built hotels on Pork Place.

     #9: Q: How do you take a pig to the hospital?   A: By hambulance.

    #10: Q: Why was the hog a failure as a TV talk host?   A: He turned out to be a big boar.

    #11:  Q: What do hip pigs call their ladies?   A: Fine swine.

    #12: Q: What do pigs like with chow mein?   A: Sooey sauce.

    #13: Q: What kind of furniture do pigs like?   A: Overstuffed.

    #14: Q: What do pigs sing on New Year's Eve?   A: Auld Lang Swine.

               Shalom Y'all - Twyla

The Price of Progress

          I'm not sure what "progress" is.   I feel a certain sadness when I see a scene such as this: an old chimney stands abanboned, grown over with weeds and vines.  And ugly black fabric is tacked into the earth to prevent erosion while the heavy equipment moves in to level off the  land in anticipation of building... what? Another empty strip mall?  A row of ticky-tacky houses which won't be standing after twenty years.
      The old fireplace and chimney look massive and well-built.  What ever happened to the home they provided with warmth? Did it crumble? Burn? Why didn't the owners rebuild? Sad.
     Here's a poem, written by my brother, Larry - about forty years ago - it could be the lament of a rejected lover or an old abandoned homesite.
              
                   Gold of the Sea
               I stand naked close to you,
               But you've forgotten time since lost.
               I ask you, "Won't you touch me?"
              With a laugh, you tear open my chest,
               wrench out my heart,
               and, drain my blood into a crystal cup;
               then drink it.
               Every drop.
                                                                                Shalom Y'all,      Twyla