Supplies

Stayed in town for a couple of days. The phone was dead because a very large oak had taken out the line. Frontier said they'd have service restored today, and, sure enough, on my way home, one of their trucks was on Mackletree. I stopped and chatted with the guy, he was just fitting the waterproof cover over the repair and said I was good to go. Some function at the museum tonight, so I got out the required tables and chairs. A huge lunch at the pub, Shepard's Pie, so I probably won't eat again until tomorrow, then ran some errands in the afternoon and left an hour early. I needed to start stocking the house for winter: ten gallons of drinking water, 15 gallons of wash water, juices, back-up whiskey, ten packages of Idahoan "Baby Reds", ten of those tubes of saffron rice (for fried rice meals), a few things for there freezer, some shrimp, five one-pound packages of frozen ground pork which I use to make Chorizo (which I can eat a dozen ways), a pork tenderloin, a couple of steaks. Bought some canned goods, evaporated milk, in case I run of cream for my coffee, some coffee, several cans of fire-roasted tomatoes, now that they've gotten cheaper (they use to be just a gourmet thing, but now Hunt's does them). I'm low on dried beans, so I buy a few pounds of those, pintos, great northern, black. I remember toilet paper, buy another of those self-grinder whole pepper-corn units. I need to get lamp oil, because I have grown to hate the smell of kerosene. It's actually fun doing this, because I know, after all the years of living this way, what I need to pre-load, and what I can carry in. So I drive up and park on the other side of the puddles. Four trips, a hundred yards each, nothing to complain about. I like knowing that I could live for weeks, maybe, almost, forever, on the larder I assemble. I need some oil, now that I'm not a goatherd, with an unlimited supply of goat-butter, something I can cook things in, so I buy a gallon of cheap olive oil. Everything is relative. I like cheap olive oil, it actually has some taste. That dozen eggs, from TR's family, they fairly explode; then you have to consider that taste might mediate. Just saying. I deal with these constructs every day. If that then this. The algorithm holds. The metaphor. Go out there, in the field, and try to understand what anyone is saying. Absolutely impossible, but you do get the drift, because the angles were wrong. Something, what gave me away, did you see that I wasn't lying?