Set Theory

It's interesting how a set of factors, components, affect a course of action. Local flooding, snow or rain, the various contingencies. I like to make my meatballs, and matzoh balls smaller, so you can deal with them, then either make or buy a good marinara, and have this on a toasted bun. Or pasta, egg noodles, or any other starch. I didn't know what day it was, so I turned on the radio to find out. Thursday. I started a tomato sauce, I'll make the meatballs tomorrow, having plenty of Mac and Cheese to last another day. I still feel that the hammer is going to drop, despite the fact that it's supposed to be fifty degrees tomorrow. I fear for the frogs, if they jump the season they'll all freeze to death. I have enough food to feed a family of four for a year. Beans on cornbread is pretty good fare, the occasional can of sardines, and generic mixed greens, cooked for an hour with salt-pork and onions are just fine. I spike the pot liquor with a Dove Creek hot sauce that's very good. During the camping phase of my separation, I'd occasionally rent a motel room in Dove Creek for a few nights, to bathe and do laundry, and I quite liked the place. The Pinto Capital Of The World. Read a piece about mountain lions in LA and remembered a time, heading back to Utah from a weekend with the girls, going through Desolation Valley on my way there, through Egnar (Range spelled backwards, there was already a Range in Colorado), then Dove Creek, then Monticello. We were building a house in Moab. I'd stopped on the road to pee. This was the loneliest stretch of road I've ever experienced, incredibly dry country, forbidding and beautiful. I often pulled off the pavement there and hiked in the foothills to the west. The roadcut had exposed fossils, especially where they had installed a culvert to contain the rare water event (a rainstorm every few years) and I sat there for a long time. More Bald Eagles, fifty at least, than I'd ever seen in one place, migrating down to the lower 48 from Alaska, when I noticed a mountain lion slinking through the rocks, then slipping into the culvert. Probably water, I thought, sat and watched until it came out the other side, heading into the hills. All the grace that can be imagined.