Hog Heaven
Apr 6th, 2007 by Eats Wombats
Something I’ve noticed since I started this blog about things that amuse me or give me pleasure is that I find myself slowing a down a bit, noticing and smelling the roses more often. Not just so I can blog about it, though I do now observe life a little more consciously. Serendipitously I encountered the following quote which captured the essence of this
The voyage of discovery is not seeking new landscapes but having new eyes.
Marcel Proust
It’s so easy to be in a hurry.
I passed the Oxfam bookshop in Marylebone High Street yesterday and I stepped in briefly to see what serendipity had to offer. Soon I was engrossed in The Good Good Pig by Sy Montgomery. I resisted buying it, somehow (forgetting that it was 2nd hand and probably cheap even though in perfect condition). I may yet decide that this a truffle I must have, at least to read and savour.
You can read an excerpt here; however, the beer drinking, escapologist gourmand’s life had yet to become interesting. I think the description of the outpouring of sympathy after the pig’s death would have made more arresting and intriguing excerpt. There are some photos of the pig himself and reviews of his tale here. It is, fundamentally, a book about relationships and it is charming and funny and rather unexpected. There are audio interviews with the author on the web but, having listened to one, I am not going to link to any. Montgomery is a more effective writer. She has said of the pig and book
One I day I hope that all people realize that a great soul can come to us in any form. In my case, he came home in a shoebox, a runt deemed too sickly to live–and grew into a 750 pound hog who lived to age 14, pampered and adored by our entire New Hampshire village. Neighborhood kids came to wash and groom him at “Pig Spa.” Local restaurants brought him gourmet slops. Local voters wrote his name in at town elections. Our one town cop kept apples in the cruiser in case he met up with Chris (who was an escape artist) on the road. But the real beneficiary of all this affection was those of us who loved him–as those of us who love animals well know. He was, as a neighbor told me, “a great big Buddha master” who “taught us how to love what life gives you” and this book is the story of what he showed us.
Meanwhile, another blasted weblog (Thanks Jeremy) points to this delightful page on Happiness, Decisions and the Paradox of Unlimited Choices. Barry Schwarz’s presentation, linked to here and which I hadn’t seen, is a delight. Is he living in a rural part of America? I can’t help wondering… only 175 kinds of salad dressing in his local supermarket. The cartoon in the middle of it is wonderful–there are a few, but you’ll know which one I mean even if you don’t play golf.
