"Turn left at the pig."
That's how I give directions to my house.
No. I don't live on a farm. Not even in a rural area. I live in Vienna, VA. 15 miles west of the Nation's Capital. About a mile away from the Vienna Metro.
And if you live in the Southwest side of town, chances are you know the pig I am talking about.
It's not a real pig, but a giant, life-size pig that sits in my neighbor's yard. You can't miss it. It's bright orange. The color of a traffic cone.
We've heard the pig was put there by the owner's brother as a joke. Turns out my neighbors thought it was pretty cool. They embraced the pig (not literally) and every holiday finds the pig dressed for the occasion.
I'm guessing that some of the neighbors don't like the pig. And when it first went in, we weren't sure we liked it either. But it (he? she?) kind of grows on you. And as time has gone by, we look forward to each new creative tableaux that is put before our eyes.
Here's one they did at Christmas. "Rudolph The Red Nosed . . . PIG".
And at Thanksgiving we get "Turkey Pig". (Photo courtesy of a neighbor's blog www.wildtrumptevine.com).
We hear they're always looking for new ideas, so our suggestion is "Jurassic Pork". (That's what you get when you cross a dinosaur and a pig!)
And the thing is, it really does make giving directions easy.
"Take 66 to Nutley, Turn right on Marshall Rd. Turn left at the pig."
