January 21, 2013
I haven’t posted anything in this blog in three days, and I’m afraid my public is going to forget about me. Writing every day is part of my plan to take over the world by adverse possession. My presence must be open and notorious, hostile and adverse, continuous and under claim of right. It’s the continuous part that’s hard. I’ve been editing my old food blog into a book, a project that seemed so easy–cut and paste!–but of course it’s a first class pain in the ass. But it’s done. I’ve ordered the proof.
And now I can write again.
So, Happy Martin Luther King Day!
Enzo and I went fishing and got skunked as usual. It was just getting light when we got to the lake, the beginning of a cold, bright day. Enzo was super-excited about using the mouse tail lures that Teresa got him for Christmas. For some reason we were all convinced that they were real mouse tails. I guess we thought they were mummified or something–like jerky perhaps. Enzo asked me what they do with the rest of the mouse after they take the tail. But when I opened the package, they were fake mouse tails–to my disappointment and relief.
After we set up our fishing pole, we walked and walked along the shore, leaving our stuff far behind, each in our own world. I love being with Enzo when he’s not paying any attention to me, and I don’t have to pay much attention to him. We’re sort of warmed by each other’s presence, and that’s enough. Every once in a while he would run over and show me the big flecks of fool’s gold he was finding. “We’re going to be, like, millionaires, dude!”
When did he start calling us dude?
When we finally got back to the car, the parking lot was still completely empty. It was a huge lot, with none of those concrete bumper things. So I let him drive–sitting in my lap of course. I’m not sure if Teresa knows this yet. I certainly haven’t mentioned it.