Do You Know HM's Hidden Talent?

No school again tomorrow for Mrs. Hillbilly Mom. That's Day 7 of the days to be made up before we get out of school for the summer. But who's counting? I'm happy as a pig on ice. Which is a saying that's always puzzled me, perhaps because that's not really the saying, but just something I've heard from the hillbillies around here that should really be something else. I would imagine that a pig on ice would be dead, and being preserved for somebody to eat. You don't see pigs out playing hockey like those Clydesdales like to play football.

Maybe that saying is 'happy as a pig in sh*t', which is not really polite, what with a cuss word tossed in there. I don't think pigs are dirty animals who play in sh*t. They just like to roll around in mud because they have no sweat glands, and they need to keep cool, and the sun is not kind to their pink, piggy skin. You know that pigs have hair, don't you? It's really course and not something you'd want to pet. But those pink little baby piglets are cute as a bug's ear. Don't pick them up by their corkscrew curly tails, though. They squeal, and then their momma comes after you to take a bite out of your leg if you don't run really fast and hurdle the fence like your cousin, in case your grandpa isn't there to whack that ol' sow with a stick. I'm sure you knew that a woman pig was called a sow. Everybody knows that from watching Coal Miner's Daughter, where Loretty catches Doo driving a girl down the railroad tracks in his Jeep, and calls her a sow and whacks HER with a stick, right after Sissy Spacek goes to town to the doctor and finds out she's pregnant. Tommy Lee Jones tells her he thinks she's finally found something she can do. Because we all know she don't know how to clean the house, and she don't know how to cook, and she don't know how to love her man. Another thing about pigs is that they'll eat anything you give them, like garbage or corn from a bucket scattered out on the dusty ground, or a leather belt, or a human you want to kill and get rid of the evidence. I know that from the Hannibal Lecter book, but the rest of the stuff from my grandpa's pig farm. And another thing...if your husband calls you in town and tells you he's found two wild pigs and is going to make sausage out of one, tell him NO, because they might just be a 12-year-old neighbor's pet pot-bellied pigs. But I wasn't really planning on making this post a pigapalooza.

Yes, the call canceling school came around 2:30 or so. I know it was before Jeopardy. Did anybody catch Jeopardy today? They started out with the 'champion', a teacher, and some banker dude and a retail technician. When they came back from commercial after emptying three categories, they had freakin' different contestants. What's up with THAT? The teacher guy was in the middle, and another guy was champion, and the token woman had black hair instead of blond, and I was all discombobulated. Heads better roll over that programming faux pas. It's not nice to fool Hillbilly Mom.

Speaking of TV, last week's TV Guide Horoscope said that next weekend I would find out what my real talent was. All I know is that if it was on the weekend, my talent is not teaching and it's not cleaning house. And did it mean the weekend that just passed, or the weekend that isn't here yet? Is 'next weekend' the one that is immediately next, or the next one? That's like, say, on a Sunday, you tell me, "Next Monday, I'm going to the Bahamas." Does that mean you are going the next day, or a week from the next day? It's baffling. Apparently, my talent is not in interpreting horoscopes, either.

I wish I knew if I'd already discovered my talent, or if it's yet to come. Let's see...what did I do last weekend? I watched a basketball game through some cheerleaders and large people. I read a book and a lot of internet. I wrote on my blog.

Something tells me I'm not going to be paid for such talents.