Twelve pounds went through the roof and ate up all the blinds. Without any questions, the pink piggy said that it was fine. However, the others in the house were very disappointed with the result and chastised the pounds, which promptly threw a fit. It was all an accident, except the part about the blinds, and it wasn’t fair for the others to give the pound trouble–at least from the point of view from the pound. Well, the house now had a courtyard and a real problem with leaks which would need to be resolved before the next storm. Maybe this was the time to knock the place down and build new. It had been an option, and we do not know yet what the insurance company will say about the situation.
Why did the pound eat the blinds? Why did the pound feel it was fine working precariously above the roof. The rafters were not so strong, and the house was not showing any signs of newness. Everything was old, and the materials and veneers were clearly from the late eighties or early nineties. Yes, these things tend to come back into style, but the truth is the owners didn’t take care of the property and only thought of it as a temporary condition. No pride. No pride. No fancy dancy ways in the yard or inviting the couples over to mingle. The property was a little in disarray, which meant the little piggy, pound, and plenty of others frequenting the place were going to be embarrassed when the insurance contact came to peruse.
For this reason, it is likely that the house would in fact be knocked down, and a new version of the manse would come to be on the property. What about the swing set? What about the outdoor toys? Washed away with the tide of novelty and newness. Without the central object defining the nature of the site weighing everything down, the property would go contemporary. What does that mean to the neighbors? What does it mean to the owners? Really, they would need to grow and evolve as well. Their entire world view would need to change to something of the 20s, instead of the electronic, fluorescent days of before the turn of the century. What is it today? We are without a name or style; at least that is what we think, because we are sitting right in the middle of things making and taking. There is a style or something quintessentially 2022, and we will not know it as such for a few more years.
The owners would have to be ecofriendly and drive two cars. They would need to worry about their rights while happily handing them over without a care. Or, maybe it was time for them to believe so deeply in something that it changes their perspective so, and the house would be secondary to the meaning and the mission put forward by their beliefs. Maybe there isn’t so much change, as the house was built during the late 70s, loved through the eighties and nineties, and did not change for the subsequent two decades. There is some comfort in the lack of change, and we need to hope that the onset of newness doesn’t push the owners away from their center. Or, does it matter? Do others matter? Does matter do other? Or, would it matter?
People talked when they found out what happened. They whispered and spoke about the time this happened and the time that did, too. But, it was never with the pig, the pound, or their roommates in town, now that all of them needed to vacate for the demolition. They tried to carry on like they always did, but there was a sense of loss. There was a loss of ownership, and the loss of privacy. There was the loss of false pride, giving way to embarrassed acceptance. Without the house, they were exposed and meek, tired and weak. The only thing that they could do is find a schedule where they could come together for dinner and pretend all was the same, or at least okay. It was okay, but in a very anonymous, good smelling, fresh sheets every other day hotel way that was fun for the first couple nights but is now sad and lonely. The roommates could share the house, but it was not quite right to share a room at the hotel, even after their long acquaintance. One day it would be better.