The Bright Side

Got up late after spending half the night considering commas. Heated water and shaved, washed my hair, sponged off. The house was warm enough that I just built a short hot fire, red maple and poplar, and let it go out as soon as my water was heated. Lovely calm day when I walked out, and, sure enough, the driveway is capable of being driven, so I scooted into town, had a beer at the pub, and did the Kroger resupply. Juice, cream, coffee, butter, more eggs, a couple of frozen meals, for when I don't feel like cooking, and some things to cook, a pork tenderloin, some baby Yukon Gold potatoes, a bag of salad; also some treats: vegetable chips, a bar of chocolate, an avocado. Sixty degrees today, but I'll probably take the Jeep down tomorrow, as rain then snow then 15 degrees on Wednesday, so the frogs are well and truly screwed. Walking out, this morning, I had to watch where I stepped, because there were depleted frogs everywhere. You don't want to step on a frog. I bought a small corned beef in one of those vacuum packs, and I'll have a couple of meals with cabbage, potatoes and carrots, but what I'm looking forward to is hash, on toast, with an egg on top. I'll make hash out of anything, but corned beef hash is king of the road. True to my new routine, I slept for a couple of hours, then got back up at midnight and worked over several paragraphs for a few hours. The wind picked up, out of the Northwest, a low moaning in the trees, and it seemed righteous that the house would vibrate at a very low frequency. I can feel it. It shakes your bones. Bach transcribed to the double-bass. At some point I went out to pee, and the Lord gave me the leeward (whoever, whatever your construct, it's nice when there's an abatement in the wind) and I managed to pee without getting too much on me. Here's an interesting thing. My hip was hurting all day, and I wasn't in a good mood, but every time I got involved with a word or a mark of punctuation, the pain went away. I'm sure that means something. Scudding clouds in the morning, then blue skies. Supposed to get to sixty again today, then drop, straight through, down to ten degrees tomorrow night, then rebound to fifty by the weekend. Went outside to gather kindling and check on the frogs. Birdsong draws me into the woods and I find a stump to sit on for half-an-hour. It's extremely pleasant, sun on my face, a light breeze, shirtsleeves. After the rain, and the next two-day cold snap, should be the beginning of morel season. One of the local hunters (I'd found and returned one of his valuable coon dogs) had told me that there was an excellent patch of early morels north of my graveyard, and I walk over there, to scout out the terrain. A young Sassafras tree catches my eye. It must have been weighted over in an ice-storm, the top got caught by some green-briar and it's become an almost perfect arch. The body of it is between four and five inches in diameter. I don't have a need for it right now, but I draw a little map so I can find it again. I could do a very nice installation of curved sticks. In my ever helpful way, I'd probably call it "Some Curved Sticks". On any given five acre ridgetop there are a lot of curved sticks. Young, fast-growing trees, are subject to getting caught up in things. Getting back on Ridge Time, I realize, when I stare at a bent tree for thirty minutes; and getting back home, which could have meant a ten minute walk, took an hour, because I kept getting sidetracked. Those lovely tiny flowers. That miniature iris, that is one of the most beautiful plants in the world, is actually called Miniature Iris, when it could have easily been called "Mary's Passion" or some such. Plenty of leftovers to make a fried rice, so I cook up a package of generic Saffron Rice (which I only buy on sale and usually have about ten around). They now have a two-tiered display case, in Kroger, where they unload items that are discontinued. I've found some interesting things there, canned squid, strange chutneys, bizarre soups; and it's one of those places where you mumble with complete strangers about what the hell you might do with an ingredient you've never seen before. There's a four-foot section at the end of the meat case, and one three-foot cabinet in the frozen food aisle, that are the same, discontinued items. I love them. Sweetbreads or kidneys, often lamb, frog legs, tripe; and it's always very cheap because they want to get rid of it. I'm their guy. I make a tripe fried rice to die for.