We Went to NY and We Ate Like A Pig...Home Again, Home Again, Jiggetty Jig

This is a picture of us with my aunt, Bev, who is more like my sister, and her partner, Ron. This is the fun and wacky aunt whom I 'told on' in an earlier blog titled, "I'm Mrs. Green Christmas, I'm Mrs. Sun".
Cappy and I had such a wonderful trip that we don't know where to begin. As I'm typing, Cappy's back out on the tugboat sleeping. We got up this morning at 2 a.m. (horrors) to get him to Houma to his office by 3:30 a.m. I came home and conked out on the couch with the dogs for a few hours.
When we left for NY a couple of weeks ago, for some reason, we kept running into pig things. Somebody with a 'piglady' license plate, pig bumper-stickers, pig farms, and lots of swine signs. We were laughing and having so much fun I wanted to take a piece of scotch tape and stick it to my nose...pull it up to look like a pig, but Cappy said emphatically, "No! You are Not going to fix yourself a pig nose so you can terrorize the other drivers". Sigh, so I didn't get to, but he still planned to 'get his pig on' by stopping in Memphis to try out the barbeques in the area. We got there too late at night for any such mischief, and had to "get up with the chickens" early to get on the road, and thus, no diners featuring pork rib barbeque were open, that we could find, at that hour. Nontheless, for some reason, we just kept running into pig signs and pigs, piggies and pig-pigs everywhere, etc. We joked that the theme for our trip was indeed pigs. At the time we didn't have a clue as to why. Finally, we got to Rochester, road weary and ready to rest. Our son Dan and his bride, Jennifer, 'put us up' in Jennifer's daughter, Melinda's room for the next couple of weeks. We staggered to bed, fell right in the 'bankies' and slept like logs. The next morning I woke up,stretched and noticed Cappy sitting on the edge of the bed, reflected in a child's mirror. His beloved, scruffy, boat captain face, bleary eyes, hair all aswirl around his head, still looking haggard and tired from the road trip, was surrounded by pretty pink and lavendar, decorated with embroidery-like embellishments, glittery jewels and big pretty lettering that read, "It's Tough Being a Princess".
(I woke up to that sight every morning we were there. I vowed I'd get a picture of it, but of course didn't.) That first refreshing morning, the second thing I noticed was that Melinda liked pigs. She had them everywhere in her pink and lavendar room. Piggy banks, pig cookie jar, pig figurines. Somebody out there was definitly trying to tell us something.
After our wonderful vacation, which we promise to tell you more about in the near future, we got back on the road for home, eating our way across America, Cappy accusing me at every hotel of being a bed-pig and blanket hog. Three quarters of the way home we began to wonder where the pigs were again, since it had been our theme the whole time. Gosh, didn't this joke have a punch line?? By the time we got to Atlanta, we realized we were the pork butt of the joke, when we didn't have any clothes that didn't have food stains on them to go into a restaurant, and that our pants could no longer be zipped. As tradition would have it, whenever we drive away from one of our kids' houses, we always have given the Cajun Yell, "Aaaaieee", and they always yell it back to us. I guess they should have yelled, "Soooieee" back at us, instead. We rode home in disgust at ourselves, bellies hanging out over our zippers and not laughing at pigs anymore, cuz they wuz us.
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