1 May 2013
More Tahoe notes. (I forgot about the ones on my phone.)
Enzo: “When it comes to crawdad hunting, patience is the best sauce.” He is crouched on the bank of Trout Creek dangling a long, hotdog-baited stick into the water among some tree roots. He looks over at me to see if I get it, and then adds, “Not hunger, patience. And I am the expert on patience.” And then he starts chanting in manner of sports fan, “Pa-tience, Pa=tience, Pa-tience.”
After we catch a crawdad, Enzo takes it off a ways and starts to make a habitat for it, and I hear him say, “Is it okay if I call you William?” But he ends up calling it “Brownie.”
Enzo (while on a hike): “This is too naturey for me. I like being at home reading books about nature.”
Enzo: “Isn’t that what hiking’s all about? One parent? One-parent hiking?” This was when he and I were on a hike alone, and I was refusing to hike down by the creek because Teresa wasn’t with us. There’d been a mountain lion down there, and we had a plan about who would escape with Enzo and who would stay and fight the mountain lion. I was going to stay and fight. Then Teresa persuaded me that she should stay and fight because my life insurance wouldn’t last them very long.
And now, as I’m sitting on the couch writing this, peering at my phone, then at my computer, Enzo comes up to me and says, “You know what you call it when you sleep with your butt on the pillow? Especially if it’s a bunk bed?”
“A butt bed. Just write that down, please.”
And I do.