When we left O'Toole's after dinner and a discussion of the heraldic emblems hanging on the walls, we heard a low thumping in the distance. Fireworks. It was too arrhythmic to be drums or a boom car. Fireworks and miles from July, but we didn't know where they were or why. We just got in the car and headed home, but from where Forest Hill turns into Semmes, we could see them. We watched them (I'm glad I wasn't driving) all the way down Semmes and caught the grand finale and the huge bat-like cloud of smoke left hovering over the river and lit from below by the city lights.
Very cool.
Our discussion of heraldry was more prosaic. I noticed the number of shields that have pigs on them. Yeah, so they're probably supposed to be boars, but they look an awful lot like piggies.
Oz observed, "A lion rampant on a field of red, with a piggy on top!"
Oz being half of British Isles extraction, I asked, "Do you think your family's shield, if they had one, would have a piggy on it?"
"We wouldn't have a coat of arms. But if we did, it would have a piggy, and it would be tucked under someone's arm who's running over a hill. Or maybe a dead pig hanging from a rail being carried off by a bunch of poachers."
232 words | September 28, 2005 08:46 PM | Real true story