Pig Dreams

So I have decided to share with you the source of many of my laughter filled moments. Prepare yourself, it is a little weird but will have you doubled over in no time.

Near my parents house is a farm of sorts. I'm not sure you can even call it a farm because it consists of five cows, a couple of vagabond dogs, I'm sure some chickens, and three or four pigs living in what can only simply be described as a junk yard. The pig pen is sandwhiched between broken down 50's tow trucks and is built out of scrap plywood and siding I pretty sure they sacrificed from their own house. The cows calmly graze between the rusted out back hoes, stacks of tires, and the occasional seventies lawn chair. The owner of the operation runs a business called "Tubes and Hoses" from the beautiful locale and I'm going to be honest I'm not entrieley sure what fares or services to expect from this company. This farmer/tinkerer/enterpenuer is constantly bringing back to his patch of land hunks of junk to decorate the yard. And the entire little jem of a "farm" is located literally in the median of one of the busiest highway in Alaska. Classy.

Now that you have an idea what I pass everyday to visit my parents I have to share with you Steve's comments every time we see it. You must understand what kind of man my husband is first. Steve knows how to fix anything. Whenever anything is broken my mom calls my husband before hers. Dirt and grease have staked a permanent claim underneath his fingernails. He knows the names of the tiniest parts for everything from my Subaru impreza to our kitchen aid. This guy doesn't believe that any other protein in the world qualifies as meat unless it's beef. I think he smells weird if he doesn't smell like two-stroke exhaust. And probably the most important piece of proof that this boy I married is a down right man's man is that the carharrts he wears are completely destroyed. Bottom line: Steve likes dirt, meat, things that go vroom, and me. Probably in that order ;)

So you can imagine my surprise when as we are passing the junk yard farm instead of rambling off the makes, models, and years of this man's car collection Steve takes a long gander and proclaims suddenly:
"I want a pig!"
What? Huh? Are you kidding? No, no he is not joking. He then gives me a list of reasons why having a pig would be "awesome" these are his words not mine:

• "Pigs are really clean animals! They do all their pooping in one corner and then roll around in the mud in the other spots."
• "I would let our kids ride it around."
• "You don't even have to buy it food, you just give it the crap you don't want."
• "Pigs can be mean, they bite. But if that pig ever bit me I would punch it in the head!"
• "You can keep it as a pet and when it gets fat enough it's like bacon heaven!"
• "I wouldn't get too attached to it because I would totally want to eat that pig."

[Insert my wild uncontrollable laughter here]

I literally could not stop laughing, I think I might have even peed just a little. I had no idea that my husband felt so strongly about swine. I mean this is coming from a person who's greatest desire in life is to own a brand new dirt bike or camaro and now he's telling me he would rather build a pig pen in the corner of our future neatly trimmed yard? What's next? Rusted out cars? Bath tub flower beds?? Heaven forbid...every era of washers and dryers on our front porch? Is my man going to start a vague business out of our home, I mean trailer, called "Nuts and Bolts" and say "Hell honey! We should start a farm out here!" Oh geeze, the next thing you know he will stop calling me my cute pet name "baby love" and start calling me "Ma'" or "Old lady" I can just see it now, me and our children naming the pigs Pinky, Curly, or Big Mama one bright day and then the next it being strung up from a tree branch over a scalding pot of water squealing. Yeah...this is not gonna work out.

I guess I can't be too suprised of Steve's love for the porcine. This is a man who lists bacon and dirt in his top favoirte things although I don't really know any other guy that doesn't. Although I can't imagine ever owning a slew of dirty clove hoved pink creatures I know we probably would. Because as wild as Steve's pig dreams might be I do love to make that man happy :) I'm sure I would wrap myself in bacon lingerie and ride a ducati through a mud pit if he asked me to.

Now whenever we pass that little junk yard farm Steve reminds me of our future hogs. To pacifiy him I tell Steve he can get all the pigs he wants when I can get my brand new dream house. I often fantasize about it: It will be a beatiful two story on lots of land and big spruce trees and endless trails all around it, there will be a lush green yard, a gorgeous flower garden, and a hot tub. And I'm sure when I'm pruning my rasberry bushes, lounging in my hammock, or maybe even roasting marshmallows in our slate firepit there will be a stinking pig pen somewhere near where Pinky, Curly, Big Mama, and Steve will all hang out.