Web Season

It’s spiderweb season in Stonington, and our decks–with their posts, and fencing, and many corners, and other nooks and crannies–are prime web-building grounds for our spidery friends. On damp mornings, like yesterday, the water molecules cling to the webs and create some outdoor art that has a delicate beauty and also the impressive tensile strength to bear many times its weight in water.

My attitude about spiderwebs has changed since my childhood. I used to take sticks and pull them down whenever I encountered one. Reading Charlotte’s Web helped to change that attitude, and I also realized that it didn’t make much sense for someone who, from time to time over the years, has been called “Webbie” by some friends. I’ve come to understand that spiders and their webs perform a valuable service for us, in ridding our neck of the world of the annoying, buzzing housefly. And you can’t help but admire the industriousness of spiders as they build and repair their elaborate webs and then wait patiently for their prey.

On misty mornings I’ll make the rounds, taking a look to see what the spiders have been up to and admire their handiwork, like the effort above on our upper deck. Care must be taken, however, to avoid inadvertently getting a face full of webbing.

At The Blue Hill Fair

Yesterday we ventured over to the Blue Hill Fair in Blue Hill, Maine.  It’s a big deal locally, and we paid a visit to get our taste of small town America.  The Blue Hill Fair has everything you’d expect to see in a local fair, from livestock and quilting and produce contests — like the impressive array of bright green vegetables shown above — as well as the kind of vomit-inducing rides that you remember from the fairs you went to in your childhood.  Who doesn’t recall their first ride on the Tilt-A-Whirl?  (And for that matter, isn’t it hard to believe that Tilt-A-Whirls are still out there, motoring away and causing people to go careening from one side of the ride to the other?)  The Scrambler was there, too, but no sign of the notorious Rotor.

We also watched a fine performance by the Red Trouser Show, put on by two long-time friends who now make their living traveling the circuit and performing at fairs and functions across the globe.  These guys were great, both in terms of their juggling, tumbling, and acrobatic efforts and in their witty banter and ability to get the crowd into the show.  It was a great reminder of America’s vaudeville past and how a simple performance by two people equipped with flaming torches and a ladder can create a memorable experience.

In addition to the elements of your basic small town fair, however, the Blue Hill Fair has something extra.  Because author E.B. White spent a lot of time in this part of Maine, the local lore is that the fair that is a key part of the story of Wilbur the pig in Charlotte’s Web is based on the Blue Hill Fair.  As a result, near the livestock exhibitions you can find a little pen with a dozing pig — two of them, in fact — sporting a blue ribbon because they are “some pig.”  No sign of Charlotte or her web, however.

And those of you who remember the story in Charlotte’s Web will recall that the wily Charlotte enticed Templeton, the rat, to accompany Charlotte and Wilbur to the fair by promising him gluttony beyond compare due to the food available along the midway.  If Templeton had been at this year’s Blue Hill Fair, he would have been a happy camper — you could find every imaginable kind of fair food there, from fried dough to funnel cakes to cotton candy, caramel apples, and bacon-wrapped hot dogs.

F

Let A Pig Be A Pet

In Houston, a Texas district court judge has declared that Wilbur, a Vietnamese pot-bellied pig, is a “household pet” who can remain in his owners’ home. The case addressed whether Wilbur violated the local homeowners association rules.

Wilbur was a Christmas gift from Alex Sardo to his wife, Missy, and he quickly became a member of the family.  A few months later, a neighbor brought the pig to the attention of “The Thicket at Cypresswood Community Improvement Association,” which concluded that Wilbur was not the kind of “common” and “traditional” pet permitted by association rules and sent the Sardos a letter saying Wilbur had to go.

The Sardos went to court, and on Monday Judge Mike Engelhart ruled that a Vietnamese pot-bellied pig is a household pet not bred for commercial purposes.  He also noted that “Homeowner’s associations are there, on one hand, to maintain a neighborhood in a particular way, but they also have responsibilities not to infringe too much on homeowner’s use of their land the way they see fit.”

Hear, hear!  The ruling is a victory not only for pot-bellied pigs, but also for people who yearn to be free from the nosy intrusions of busybody neighbors who want to control how other people live.  This isn’t a case of people raising hogs in their backyard or having a lion for a pet.  Wilbur was a well-mannered pig who was kept in the home, didn’t cause trouble, and brought some joy to the lives of the Sardos.  Why should neighbors raise a stink, rather than doing the neighborly thing and keeping their opinions to themselves?  If Wilbur’s story causes even one homeowner’s association to back off, he’s served the interests of mankind.

Somewhere, a spider named Charlotte and a rat named Templeton are happy that Wilbur was judicially recognized as “some pig” — and no doubt “humble” as well.