Skipping Stones

Nothing like a freeze, to rid the forest of bugs. Not a single bite in the past few weeks. Liberal Independent is how I describe myself when asked. Only mention that because I've been asked so many times in the last few weeks. My rule for politicians is to not be any more of an asshole than you have to be. Fiscal times like these, you want a president who isn't out for re-election, then there's the Supreme Court. I could name some things. Recreational use of ganja in Colorado, and same sex marriage in Maine. The Republican model doesn't seem to be working. The people think otherwise. That rape guy was strung up by his balls. We ain't idiots, whatever the perception. I battle this all the time, because I act like an idiot, talk to myself and wave my arms. Other people tend to keep their distance and look away. You can avoid idle chatter by using an inappropriate word several times in quick succession. Usually enough of a distraction that you can slip out a side door. My strategy is to always defy detection. TR, D and I with our various punch-lists. D lays a new floor in the elevator, hard black rubber/plastic in 18" squares that inter-lock; a nice product, it should hold up well. TR mopping again, with that dreadful fore and aft stroke. I finished up the high-school show. Sara and Clay got back, for the benefit. Delightful conversation. Sara's thrilled that I'm doing a Janitor College book, I make her laugh out loud when I write one of those pieces, which usually arise from something that happens at the museum. Kim enjoys them too, he wrote a short gloss on something I'd said, and it was in Janitor College patois. Made me grin. Tomorrow we have to bring up one more piece of furniture from the basement, set up the tables and chairs, unhang the front wall (so that we can hang the art that's to be auctioned), and trouble-shoot the little things that go wrong. We need to get power, from the bar next door, so Wayne can cook crab cakes in the alley. I'm pouring premium wines, at $10 a glass for the event, and people just run a tab; I get one of Pegi's Circus moms to handle the tabs and the cash, because I don't want anything to do with that. I hate the way cash is handled at the museum, it's a system designed for pilferage, so I stay as far away from it as I can. I will, however, sample the wines, as I need to be conversant about the things you might be able to taste. I can do this very well, as long as Autumn supplies me with crab cakes on a regular basis. They had those boxes of dried salted cod at Kroger today, $15 for a pound-and-a-half of actual dried fish, but I sprang for one because they make delicious cod-fish cakes. I make a great sauce for these, which is just a garlicy tartar that I heat up in the microwave. The hot sauce seeps into the fried cake and the result is transcendent. I've made thousands of these, in hundreds of variations: any seafood, some instant potatoes, fried in butter, de-glaze the pan for a sauce. I take certain things to be self-evident.