Remembering how the youngsters steered their hogs. A stick, some words, and lots of movement.

Pigs do not go where you think they will as there will is not the way.

It was hot that day with a water mister.

Vendors sold wares of sorts ranging from sunglasses to trinkets.

But getting back to the hogs that day.

I distinctly remember, it was good.

This memory is recorded inside and now with some rudimentary words. And it really does not matter except today, it does to me.