Merely Tell

Baudelaire, blowing off realism, said of Flaubert, that his writing was "minute attention to trivial detail". I would actually consider that praise. I should have gone to town because I needed some back-up things, but I got up at five (flopping mouse-trap), made a double espresso and continued reading Benjamin. One of the great modern thinkers, and I love his work in all its confusion. Needed a fire which means I needed to cook in the morning, so I cooked a small pot of greens (mustard and kale) with chilies and garlic, baked a pone of cornbread, and seared the veal chop that I remembered was in the fridge. Had that for lunch, which seemed extravagant, but the food was hot. Drizzle all day, and harder rain tomorrow, so I probably won't get out until Wednesday, but it looks like this first winter storm is going to miss us, so I should be fine. I'd be fine anyway, but have to use more canned or dried foodstuffs. The last time I was at Kroger I scratched a parsnip and it was quite sweet, they keep well, I store them in leaves, under the house, so I bought a few, thinking a parsnip risotto. I like to mash them 1x1x1 with turnips and potatoes. Wonderful in stews, and I was thinking I might cook a stew next week, a ham and bean soup the week after that, then the garbanzo bean / kale / chorizo soup.Then something with tripe, a fish soup, and clam chowder. Just need to get me through the night. The whole fabrication is bullshit, I know that, but I just want to go to sleep. I've learned to duck below the bar, often, all you have to do is play dead. I was taking apart a lock mechanism for a door, it was just a joke, not even a joke, I was just taking it apart to see how it worked, too attentive. Did you know that you could know be faulted for being too attentive? When they came in, with their vests and guns I told them that there had been a mistake. Surely they intended to corner a criminal. I wasn't it.