Breaking Bread

A companion is literally "a person with whom we share bread". One great aspect of reading a lot of London Reviews is that I have to use the OED more often, because it's my only British English dictionary. I bought a strong pair of reading glasses that I only use for reading in the OED, which allows me to keep both hands free (I can make a note, for instance) for getting a wee dram and holding my place. The Latin word for hearth is focus which strikes me as perfect. Thunder storms in the late afternoon, but I had heard about them coming, on the radio, so I set out earlier for my morel walk in the woods. Leaves are happening, in the under-story. I carry my clippers, and a small yellow mesh sack (or bag or tote) so that any spores would fall to ground, and I do find a few mushrooms, enough, I think, for a sauce. When I buy one of those shrink-wrapped pork tenderloins, I cut it in half before I refreeze it, so that I can cut out the largest possible medallions, which I often pound out and stuff. I'd made a very good red onion jam. I rolled a couple of enchiladas, and covered them with morels, drowned in butter. Listen, these were very good, fantastic Who would have thought, that using a pounded tenderloin steak as a tortilla, could yield such a reality. String theory. Different universes. I read a couple of pieces out loud, to time them, and reading them out loud is the final test. I needed to time them, because I'm only supposed to read for 30 minutes at Chautauqua, and I wanted to hear the words; and reading them, I realized how oblique I'd become, not that I meant to, I actually try to be clear. Phone has been out again, the last two days. I went to town and the phone company trucks were lined up on Mackletree. This cable serves five houses. The next time I can post, that post will have cost the phone company a whole lot of money. They'd probably pay me to get a dish. Town was quite lovely, everything in bloom, the hedges filling, daffodils, a big magnolia over on fourth street. A simple agenda, an hour at the library, stop at the pub for a pint and a sandwich, then swing by Kroger for whiskey and some foodstuffs. Came home the long way around, so I could drive slowly, with the windows down, smelling the green. Stopped at the ford, went back and forth a few times, to clean my undercarriage, then parked in the middle of the creek, and rolled a smoke. Deafening quiet at first, then you hear the creek, then the forest sounds: the wind in the leaves, birdsong, branches rubbing against each other. The longer you sit the more you hear. Mahler, right? The phone is still out, so I can't send. Five of the last seven days I haven't had a phone. What passes as service. I spend $80 a month to stay connected, and I'm not connected most of the time. There really must be a better way. Maybe we could just exchange cards, dance a waltz. I can't believe I still don't have a phone. I've checked my end, and it's definitely their problem. I'll have to go out on Tuesday and try to find out what's going on. I'd go out tomorrow, but it's actually supposed to snow. Those weightless little pieces of ice that sometimes condense out of a blue sky? I had been trying to remember the name, I believe they're called icy spiculae. I'm sure there's an Innuit word for it too, and I seem to remember a one-word name, probably German. This cold snap could prolong the morel season, which would be a good thing. Reading the London Reviews I read an ad that said "The Curious Incident Of the Dog In the Night Time. " Kim gave me that book years ago, had been turned into a play.