The Little Piggy...A Case Study in Genetic Memory

A story about the beginning of my 2nd marriage the blending of two families into one. However in the writing of it, it soon became what might be considered to be a study in genetic memory.

                      The Little Piggy

               

         (Case Study in Genetic Memory)

 

          It seems not so very long ago that my new husband and I moved to the small town of Olivehurst

California. We had both been raised and educated primarily in the "Big City", as for myself, Phoenix,

San Francisco and later Sacramento. My husband Daniel was educated in Chicago and in Sacramento.

 Yet we both thought that the country safest place to raise our children. (What with all of the drive-by

shootings, drugs, gangs and other crime in our metropolitan areas these days.)

 

        We fell in love, married and moved to this quaint, rustic little town. With our combined family,

five gold fish, two parakeets, a cat, Jacob my 10 year old, Ashley 7, Scott 6 and Barbara 4. A small town,

a great place to raise kids. A 3 bedroom trailer to stay in while we built our dream house on our own

property. It wasn’t much but it was all ours.

 

        Moving day was August 16th and it was hot even by California standards. We worked through the

afternoon late into the evening to finish the move as quickly as possible. It was hard work but we banned together as a family unit to accomplish this daunting task.

 

        The unloading of all of our furniture and kitchen supplies had taken much longer than we had anticipated. It had been nearly 12 hours since any of us had ingested anything more substantial than an orange soda.

 

        My husband remembered that there was a fast food place with a drive-through open 24 hours about

5 miles away in Marysville. So I proceeded to clean up and prepare to make the long trek out for

provisions.

 

        It was far past midnight when our youngest came running into the new place shouting that there

was a pit bull at the front gate! Well, I was hot, tired and hungry, starved in fact. I just wanted to get

something to feed my family. But the thought of a loose pit bull really concerned me.

        I ran out of the house without my shoes, when I reached the front gate I realized that it wasn’t

a pit bull at all. It was the cutest little, brindle colored potbellied pig. I giggled and started yellin’, “Sooie,

Sooie, piggy, piggy, pig, pig.” That four legged pork roast went a runnin’ down the road squealing’ with

me bear footed and runnin’ behind while shoutin’, “Sooie, sooie, piggy, piggy, pig, pig!” (Talk about yer fast food!)

 

       Suddenly in mid chase it hit me, just exactly was I doing? I am chasing this poor little pig

like some sort of deranged, “Daisy Duke” I had never in my life behaved in such a manor. And it

completely astounded me. How could someone who had been so very metropolitan even consider chasing and perhaps even wrestling a hog???? I was completely confused to who, or rather what I was and who I really was.

 

       As I considered my situation, in that moment I began to recall the stories my mother had told me about her childhood in the hills of Kentucky, where several generations of the family live still in, “HOG HEAVEN”.

 

       So, is it that I’d been influenced by popular culture’s image of the “country girl”? With the lovely "Ellie May" on the Beverly Hillbillies or the high heeled beauty on the Dukes of Hazard, "Miss Daisy Duke" Or maybe, just maybe could it be genetic memory?        

 

       Now let’s consider this very carefully.  I am a reasonably bright, intelligent woman with an

education and years of life experience.  What is the logical way to come to a conclusion about my

reaction and response, on this particular day?  Let’s take it slow and simple, (as that seems to be my true

nature.)  Now, take it from the top with our first line of reasoning.

 

       If by popular culture: I was a hapless, helpless, simpleton, sheep only responding to a commonly

shared vision of what one should act like in a venue and predicament such as this one.  (Was I in fact just one of the crowd with no mind of my own???)

 

       If by motherly influences: I had fallen into a physiological trap that all of my education,

determination and strength of mind could not over come. It had become a struggle with my inner child and common sense. It seemed that I had not over come my early up bringing and further more… No matter how hard I tried, I had in simple terms actually become my "Mother".

 

       If not by word or action: Could have I have been programmed by the very D.N.A. that dictated my height, the  blueness of my eyes or, the blondness of my hair? There by rendering me powerless to overcome my situation. And yet again I must accept my fate.

 

       I pondered this over and over in my mind. Going over every detail with my mental fine tooth comb. However I could come to no clear conclusion.

 

       So, whatever the case I have come to realize that I am so much more than merely descendant from

“Country folk”, I am one. Although, I still do strive in my own way to be a bit more cosmopolitan.

 

                     

      Margaret Barton-Wahl, “Country girl at large”.

 

 

 

Reviews

[Michael X]

Margaret, this is a Phenomonal story, in its ability and clarity, with such depth,
sincerity, quality, vibrance, color regarding the deliverance and execution,
has a way of taking the reader to another place and time, filled with humorous
nostalgia, and what it means to have come home, of life and longings.