Know How

Having a mug of tea, lost in thought. Thinking about raising shallots next year because they've gotten so damned expensive. B and I passed on Mackletree, the last time I went out; I was coming in and he was going out, so, of course, we backed up and rolled down our windows. Scott and Jenny want to host the great pot roast dinner two weeks from Sunday, which is fine with me. I'd check my calendar but I don't have one. As long as I don't have to walk in and out. The final meal off the tenderloin, the hash, was very good. I start making a pocket before I flip it, then poach an egg in the center, with a few drops of sherry and a lid. I serve this with hot sauce, a piece of country toast and marmalade. It's very nice when the edges are crispy. This week's oysters are fantastic, the pick of the litter, and sixteen of them. An oyster stew tomorrow, then maybe a stuffing for veal birds. Might be the last fresh meal of the season, I could be eating canned or dried foodstuffs for six or eight weeks. I make a mac and cheese, with powered milk, that is quite good, especially if you're wet and cold. I save all of the liquid for cooking beans. I have to laugh, I'm so simple, merely a cigar, not even that, a can of snuff, a plug of tobacco might pull me astray. Looking for a place to spit. We hadn't had this conversation, probably because we don't talk about most things. We're so private. Even in the sanctuary. Mac mentioned Mad Tom and I had to reread some things, my namesakes. Mad, peeping, and terrific. Pthom. The Egyptian god of distraction. Almost went back to town, to talk with TR, but I didn't need anything, so I just called him at the museum, Saturday desk; ate left-overs, read an Elmore Leonard novel, read an interesting article about art conservation, made a late snack (an egg on polenta), and dozed off. Supposed to get cold again, with snow, so I need to spend an hour in the woodshed tomorrow, and dump the ashes from the stove. Bring in a couple of armloads of wood, start thinking in terms of beans on toast. Rain starts in again, sooner than I thought, and the temps are going straight down. Still, rain tomorrow morning, then changing over. Will certainly be a mess for a few days. Perfect conditions for mud, and the house is already a mess. I'd be ashamed but I'm not actually accountable, it's merely a life. Sawdust in the wind. I wouldn't trade it for anything.