Tom, Tom the Piper's Son

Three years ago I posted this.  It is short, so I copied it here as an intro to today's tale.

Duck and Wheel with String discovered Goose with Frock and Bonnet on her front step. Lin is so not into kitsch. I get that. But this has prodded me into making this terrible confession. We have concrete statuettes in our yard. This SWaSD tableau is in our backyard, not visible from the street. Nor can the next-door neighbors see them unless they are looking for them. Is there an excuse for this? Yes. Yes, there is. They make BBBH happy! So it is likely that each spring I will place them somewhere in the backyard. Each fall I'll lug them back into the barn to protect them from the ravages of winter. And Snow White weighs ninety pounds. [groan]

Today's Tale

I was riding home on the bike when I spotted this less than two blocks from home.

My thoughts ran in this manner.  The pig did not wander from home and get itself trapped behind the guardrail and in front of the sign post.  Someone had to help him get there.  So someone boosted him from his rightful place, that is, this is a stolen pig.  Now why would I think that?  I think that because several years ago when SWaSD "lived" in our front yard, someone stole three of them.  A letter to the editor, an appeal to a conscience somewhere, was instrumental in the recovery.  So now they inhabit the backyard.  But back to the pig.  

I worked in the concrete industry many years ago and I have a pretty good notion of what the stuff weighs.  Eyeballing the pig suggests that there may be about 150 pounds of material there.  Not only did the pig not place itself there, it was probably an effort involving at least two people.
  
Profiling.  Yes, I am picturing a certain type of human individual who might be involved in such a thing.  Does male teenager seem about right?

South of the Border (Barely)

I'm sure the sketch artist meant "Ole!" Dude.

BBBH said to me, "That guy over there keeps looking at me."  Nah, why would he want to do that?

When we got up to leave, the dude walked over and presented the sketch to her.

Stitches

We had a pitch-in, or potluck, or carry-in whichever you call it in your neck of the woods.  The event was held in the "Rec Hall."  I have mentioned before that I think these parks designate their social center this way because they cater to "wrecks."

But enough of that.  Adorning the interior walls are bulletin boards, pictures of fish, and other artistic creations.  I could not lean far enough over the table to get a "square" shot of this item, but it interested me.  In what way, you might ask, did I find it interesting?  Right; it portrays some old "Victorian" painted lady from a bygone era.  I've seen lots of them for real.  They are interesting to look at, but I'd never want to live in one.  Thinking about the utility bills alone is enough to deter me from such desires.  Then the maintenance.  But never mind.

The reason the picture "interested" me is this.  My mind being of a mathematical bent anyway, wandered to the questions 1) How many stitches are in that thing?  2) How long would it take for someone to install those stitches? and 3) Why ever would she want to do it?

The first two questions remain a puzzle.  But my mind has been satisfied as to an answer to the third.  Everyone engages in something that puzzles others.  I mean, I blog.

Yard Art

I normally don't do yard art, but occasionally something is just too too to pass by. There used to be a blog "Along Life's Highway" featuring the yard art game. I don't know the blogger or what happened, but there has been no new post for four months.

I did, however, espy this one which I thought to share with the readers. It is near the historic downtown area of Rockport, and not two full blocks from the police station. Why don't they do something about that? *grin*

Anyway, I stopped and snapped a shot rather quickly, then rode to the end of the block and stopped in the shade of an oak to take a gander at what I had. I had cut the head off the creature! Drat. So I mounted the bike and rode back, hoping to improve on the first effort. But. And it was a mighty big but. And I do not mean "butt." A young man of perhaps thirty years of age, shall we call him "Monster Dude" was in the front yard. The sleeves of his too-tight double XL shirt were ripped off at the shoulders. This was to accommodate the man who was himself "ripped" as they say in the business.

So holding the handlebars with the left hand, I attempted to palm the camera in the right hand whilst snapping the shot with the ring finger. Wonder of wonders! It's not bad. Not great, but not bad.

Top: Snapped while riding by; shows scale

Bottom: Blowup for detail