Love it! One of my favorite stories of my mom’s childhood involves an unexpected backwards ride on a pig named Old Wobbly, who got spooked and took off, running underneath my 6 year old mama’s legs, which weren’t as tall as he was, and literally sweeping her off her feet and carrying her about 250 yards before stopping abruptly, sending her flying only to land in a big pile of pig shit.

And so I’m reminded…

Thank you for that giggle on such a somber day.

I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but I know I want it to be spelled right and punctuated correctly. I guess that’s something.

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