Beyond Understanding

How or why my phone would be restored at midnight on Sunday is a complete mystery. I only know it was because I check the damned thing whenever I get up for any reason. I suspect someone is fucking with me. The dial tone is strong and welcome, none of the usual static. It's too late to call anyone, but I sure think about it, just in terms of hearing another voice. Thank god I don't know anyone in Australia. I could call Kim, he actually would just wake up and tell me about his physical therapy, he's a rock that way, but I don't want him to worry about my sanity. Several of my close friends have been worrying about my sanity, with good reason, I suppose. Not that I'm any different, but that I had been out of touch. Not even that I had been out of touch, which was purely technical, a bad connection; as that I felt a disconnect, didn't feel anything: oh right, the world. I needed to know it was possible to call someone, even if I never did. I feel better, having a dial tone. I can call for help. I don't usually bother, but it's nice to know someone is waiting in the wings with a Subaru wagon. Supposed to be nice for the next week, cooler, and no rain. Work to be done. I need to read less for a couple of months, then I can read all I want, which is usually four to six plus hours a day. If I work two hours a day, outside, that would be about two weeks in two months, and would pretty much batten down the hatches. Fussy as a hen with one chick. Next time I call rooster, you'll hook up the plow. Runt pigs suck hind tit. I always liked them, though, brought them inside and raised them on goat's milk. Having pigs in the house was contentious. People took offense that I was caring for orphan pigs, and that the kitchen smelled of pigshit, but you raise a orphan that way and you have a friend for life. I was free-ranging, by then, having discovered that mast, acorns mostly, was the meal of the day. Still I like to call them back, in the evening, circle the wagons; and my pet pig calls the other, a rabid coon; her cry shakes the night. A vegetable stew.