WHEN PIGS FLY

I went back to the mother country this summer, England/Wales. It was this amazing experience of nostalgia and good times and I could go on for hours and show you my 1,800 photos but, I'll spare you. I'll just share one moment.

I climbed up to the attic with my grandad in their house in Thompson, a tiny town in Norfolk, England. We were on a quest for vintage beer mats- you know, the little mats at bars for your drink? Long story short, my boyfriend had mentioned he collected beer mats, which led my ecstatic grandparents to admit that they'd been collecting them decades before we were born from all over the world.

On this quest, we came across a mixed box of clothes, art materials, random things. Turns out, it was my mum's box from college/her childhood, long before we moved to the United States. Curious, I dug through the box and found this mobile sort-of-thing, a pink, smiling pig with wings and a few ribbons. When you held it up by the string it looked like the wings flapped.

I called my mum to tell her and immediately, she tells me to bring it back. Once home, it hangs proudly on the ceiling of our living room, smiling away.

My mum says, "It's to remind me that all things are possible."

And I love that.