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Darling Midge: so glad to ‘see’ you.
Lady! Hey, Lady!
Who are these people? And what are they doing in my leafpile?
Hi, Midge!
I pray all else is going well with you and yours, Midge. We miss you.
Wow, the imagery in your writing is great. Thank you.
There aren’t too many things that make me happier than a Midge visit to Ricochet. Though, I admit, abandoned railroad tracks are way up there.
Nice piece, Midge. Where have you been? Are you sticking around?
For the immediate future, I’ll still be, ah, migratory. But I hope to post a review of Arbery’s “Heroes of the Fourth Turning” soon. The script finally came out this summer, for all the rest of us who can’t be NYC theatergoers (or who somehow missed the one showing they did of it over Zoom — that would be me).
For you, it’s just a swamp full of weeds and frogs, but for @kirkianwanderer , it’s a buffet
I pulled up the garden for winter yesterday. The frost came in and burst the ripest of the cherry tomatoes, guaranteeing a bumper crop of rogue plants in the spring.
Then the trick-or-treaters came. Little Princess Emma wouldn’t leave until she got to meet Asta. “Noooooo, I wanna see da pup-peeee!” I brought doggo out into the garage and Princess Emma grabbed her by the whiskers, kissed her on the nose and made a funny face. “Was that wet, Emma?” asked dad. “No,” came the reply, “dat yucky!”
One boy came dressed as Marine. He got extra.
I saw them open for High Plains Drifter at the Coliseum back in ’92.
A few data points in case you’re thinking about geographic susceptibility to PI during your migrations.
I used to be around PI a lot in north-central Minnesota and never got the rash, but when we lived in Illinois for a few years in the early 70s, I would tend to get it. It was not fun. I blamed the hot and humid climate. Here in Michigan I do a fair amount of weed-whacking and brush-whacking of poison ivy, where the juices and fragments sometimes go flying in unintended directions, and have never gotten it, or at least not badly enough to remember. I’m somewhat careful with what I do with my clothes when I come in, and give myself a good washing with soap and hot water when I come in, but I’m still surprised that I have never gotten it here.
I wish I could say the same about Lyme Disease.
As for toads, it seems I was hearing toads do their singing far later in the year than usual, for a few evenings during a warm spell. I don’t remember just when that was. Early October?
As for things that are yours to live with, I grew up as a pastor’s kid in the days when pastors moved around a lot and lived in parsonages rather than buying their own homes. There is a lot to be said for just exploring and enjoying the people and places where you’re placed rather than having the responsibility of designing your own living environment down to the last detail. It’s harder to be happy with your own choices if everything you have is due to your own choosing.
In general I agree. I can think of one fellow, though, who had to specially design two houses he lived in. He was 6’6″ tall, and a lot of stairways as designed don’t work out well for someone that tall.
Never having any choices at all about your living environment has been known to be a problem for people, too.
I’m not Gollum! I don’t live in an East Asian swamp and violently consume all of the small animals and vegetation that comes my way raw.
I’m sorry to imply that you don’t cook them. Maybe not so much a buffet as aMongolian BBQ
My dad is 6’6″. All the men in my family are over 6 feet tall. It’s hard to find high enough ceilings in cars and homes!
Glad you seem to be doing well.
So might begin an essay on the importance of rootedness.
I haven’t read many essays on the importance of rootedness but maybe that was what that Toqueleville fellow was talking about. It is a great metaphor as anyone can see who has ever struggled with the weeds that always seem more resilient than the frail flowers or vegetables that we plant. Thanks Midge.