Stream of Consciousness

Thank heaven for Yahoo News, huh?

Today's big story is that Neil Diamond has revealed who was the inspiration for his mega-hit "Sweet Caroline". Survey says: Caroline Kennedy.

It's a rather charming story, about how he saw a picture of her when she was a little girl, all dressed up to ride her pony, and how sweet and innocent she looked etc etc. etc. He recently had the opportunity to sing the song for her (and to reveal the story) at her 50th birthday party. I thought it was all rather lovely.

Plus, I loved the song when it first came out. A lot. Because I was a pop tartlet. And I thought Neil Diamond was dreamy. (Shut up). So of course I went to YouTube to find the song.



Neil Diamond "Sweet Caroline"

We're going to chalk this up as a story about how inspiration comes from vast and various places and how the kernel of an idea sprouts work that may actually be miles away from the original source. Because otherwise, this would actually be really super creepy.

Know what else I learned on Yahoo news today? Archaeologists think they have found the cave where the ancient Romans believe the she-wolf suckled Romulus and Remus. That's kinda cool.

Reminds me of a dog we had when I was growing up. Her name was Harvey. Because we thought she was a boy. Until she had puppies. But by then we were too used to calling her Harvey so we just kept it up.

Around that time our pigs, Ron and Judy (who were named for Dame Judi and Sean's best friends) had a litter, too. There was a runt. As is the way of large pig litters, the runt was destined to be shunned and die of starvation. Which we kids couldn't handle. So in a move straight out of Charlotte's Web, the runt came into the house to sleep in a warm box behind the stove and drink milk from a bottle. We were highly imaginative children, with a gift for the whimsical so we named the runt "Piglet". (Shut up again).

Piglet was a good pig. A smart pig, as pigs are wont to be. And Piglet knew a good thing when he saw it. He could struggle in the arms of a child holding him too tightly while trying to get nourishment from a rubber teat or he could nuzzle up to a nice warm mommy thing and nurse like a proper puppy. So he did. And Harvey let him. Piglet became one of her pups. He acted like them, too. He'd gambol with the other pups, until we gave them all away. And after that, he'd hang with Harvey. (Yeah, now I'm seeing the "Babe" connections, too. My childhood was a freaking story book). Piglet even became house trained, going to the door and grunting when he wanted to attend to his business. He was a good pig-dog.

This story ends badly.

Piglet was a normal pig pig, not a miniature. He kept growing. Except his hooves weren't cloven. (Which, had he also managed to chew cud, would have made him a kosher pig). The design flaw made it difficult for him to walk and so he curled his front hooves under him and walked on his knuckles, which became a problem when he gained weight. So eventually, much to our dismay, the merciful thing was done.

Speaking of knuckles, my finger seems to be getting better. See?




Can you even tell which one is afflicted?

It's the middle one. (Ironic, dont'cha think?) I really do think it's pinking up again nicely. Yay.

The Hat called me this morning for our ritual chat. I told her I didn't have anything to blog about. Guess I just proved my point.