Not (Usually) A Girlie-Girl

I'm not a girlie girl. There's a lot of things in this world that don't faze me... I throw grenades, I shoot rifles (and have since I was a little girl), I don't care if I break a nail, and I drive a pick-up truck. I'm not afraid of hard work, confrontation, change, rain, and getting old. There is, however, one fairly simple thing that gives me the heebie-jeebies by just existing (aside from small grubby noisy children, that is.)





This porker has made a home between my raised beds and the fence. I reached through to pick the last of the remaining sugar snap peas and almost put my hand into him.

*brief pause for helpless, horrified shiver*

I had the presence of mind to grab a camera, as he's huge- his leg-span is larger than a toonie. I realized though that I needed something in the picture for comparison, so I ran in the house to grab a toonie. When I got back, he was gone.

How can anything that big move that quickly? Where is he? Did he scamper up the fence and even now is poised to jump upon me and do unspeakable things to me? Or is he taking the low road- is he in the grass, eyeing my naked toes, and waiting to strike?

I became suspicious of everything. No, suspicious is too gentle a word. I panicked. And ran.

I still feel a little nervous and antsy, though I'm in the house and reasonably sure he's not. These simple little creatures have the power to terrify me utterly.

A calming shot of my abundance of colourful flowers to end with and calm me, if not you, down.