The day I was killed by wild boars. Almost.
Yesterday I was killed by three wild boars. By killed, I mean I saw three young (but still wild) boars from the upstairs window of our house. They were down by the pool. (apparently, on spring break). Now, if you are still not terrified, let me give you the backstory.
In my second year of college, they were airing the television mini-series, The Thornbirds. If you haven’t already clutched your heart and sighed, let me explain. Richard Chamberlain played the ever-so-handsome, and ambitious priest. Once a week, Meggie, the tormented love interest, faught her desires, and each of us faught along with her, glued to the small screen in the common-room lounge. Surely, no one had ever loved more deeply. Midway through the third or fourth episode, Stuey, Meggie’s younger brother, was killed by a wild boar. I can still hear the savage screams. Stuuuuuuu eeeeeeey! Nooooooo!
This being said, if I was able to believe that Richard Chamberlain, a gay man in real life, and a priest in the series, could somehow become the love of every girl’s life, certainly I believed that a wild boar could kill any and every human.
For my afternoon walk, I carried a stick and sang quite loudly. I was transported to my college dorm, and Drogheda, the fictional sheep station in the Australian Outback of the “Thorn Birds.”
They say we are still under quarantine. But are we?
After being killed, almost, by three wild boars, I should feel lucky to be alive. And I do! I guess that’s it, really, I feel lucky! To be Alive! What fun! What fun lies ahead! Perhaps today, a unicorn.
Imagine your day! It’s going to be a good one!