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Smelt Fight part 1

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When I was a student at UConn, most of the small dorms had cafeterias in them. In Goodyear, we were known to have the best cook on campus, who we simply called Jim. 

When the first Iraq war started, his reserve unit was called up, and he was sent to cook for the troops. We are scared for him, of course, but also a little nervous for our stomachs. He was that good a cook.  

When Jim shipped out, our new cook, Samantha, came on board. She smartly stuck to the basics at first, and though she didn’t have Jim’s ability, the food was fine.  

Then one day we came downstairs to large bowls full of brown …. somethings. Samantha told us they were smelt. I didn’t know at the time, but smelt is generally a bait fish, and not typically cooked for a meal.  

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Bad Shoes

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I can’t seem to find shoes that fit right. I still go to the store and try them on, and they feel fine, but then I start wearing them and they just don’t feel great.

I realize I need a few things to get it right. It needs to be the 1970s. I need to go to a department store, and a stranger has to use one of these jammies to measure my feet:

Then my mother has to press the tip of the shoe. Listen, I get that she was making sure there was some space for me to grow into them, but this process always worked. So, with these three simple and very realistic steps, I’ll be back in good shoes in no time.

I love seeing the unknown

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I was fascinated to see this hydrant before it was installed.

I have never thought about what was under the ground. Never pondered how it worked, the way it connected to water, the depth of what was hidden.

I didn’t realize I was curious about all of this before all the answers were right in front of me. It just reminded me that almost everything is fascinating, even if only in small ways.

Old Friend

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This was an hour ago. I was alerted by Anna barking. He stood their calmly, not placid, eyeing Anna with concern but not fright.

He stood still as I took pictures, took the time just to look at him. The intelligence in his eyes reminded me of wisdom, an idea supported by the white shading his brown coat.

My Story 1: “The Missing Antler” He lost the antler but won the fight.

My Feelings: Blessed. Fortunate. Aligned. Humbled.

My Story 2: “Grey Mein” Age withers but does not defeat.

My Fantasy: Spirit of an old god. Patron of flight and fight. Master of camouflage.

My Feelings 2: Fear that if I step out of line this kind of thing won’t happen to me anymore.

My Belief: Be an animal.

I called him “Old Friend” maybe 6 times. The last was when he finally ran. I said it and he stopped and looked back at me. I said “Goodbye, Old Friend.”

You Got This

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I started noticing these painted stones on hikes during the pandemic. The messages were always encouraging, sometimes heartwarming, sometimes funny. I loved the sense I got of the person behind them: empathic, positive, artistic and creative.  

Though it is only a painted stone, for a moment I felt connected to someone else, a person who wished me well, just as I did them. This is an important feeling to have, and these stones genuinely helped me on my way. 

I’m happy someone is still painting them. We still need these messages of hope and solace.  

1/2 a year!

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I’m not going to say I’m on a fitness journey because my belly. But I have emphasized getting 13000 steps daily for 6 months. Not only is this keeping me somewhat fit, it is also practice at consistency.

I feel like being consisted has often been a weakness. My Fitbit streak helps me prove to myself that I can keep it up.

I think this is directly responsible for my streak here. Just like I won’t stop until I get my steps, I feel like it’s necessary to post, even if it’s just a picture.

Hunting Hawk

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I posted before about seeing wild animals frequently, and how special and spiritual the experience is. Yesterday, on my way home, I saw a Red-Tailed Hawk scoop up a squirrel and fly with it into the trees. Not only was this a spectacular natural experience, but it also inspired some personal thinking.

I’m not sure I always believe a natural experience is a sign, but it the better story. So what could this be a sign of? My book Tao of Thoreau has really been selling lately. Perhaps it is a sign that I am capturing an audience? Or maybe not, since that squirrel would represent my readers, and I don’t want them to be eaten. Maybe it means the book is “killing” them?

Certainly, it could be a bad sign. I suppose I could be the squirrel, in the clutches of a predator. But I don’t like that story, so I think I’ll stick with the first one.

This is not the hawk in question. Please do not blame it for killing a squirrel. Though I’m sure it’s beak isn’t clean.