.
.
That's how I am seeing it. I sanded and gave a first coat of paint to the light area in the back. It does look, however, like I will need to paint again back there. The mud in some areas just didn't take to that first coat. I probably should have sanded, again, with a higher grit? No, I think paint would stick better to the rougher surface. The mud might just have, for whatever reason, soaked in more paint in a few spots. As well, I have the spots near the front door mudded. I had to do that three or four times, and wait for it to dry between, but I do believe it is done. There were a few other things I did as well, plus I cleaned off the mud scrapers and the paint brush for use next time. And, finally, I called my friend. The game he had discussed... is on tonight. Ah well. I asked if there was anything on tomorrow, and if so would he want someone to watch it with. Oh, well, that might be good, he thought. The elder lad has a special type of enthusiasm. :p So, I need to be showered and heading out the door by noon, perhaps 11:30. I need to do some shopping first. Hmm... ten bags of lettuce mix? My friend's refrigerator is usually pretty sparse, but that is a lot of salad. It would freeze in the vehicle, over a five hour period, though. The salad dressing I am not so worried about. Hmm... I will figure something out.
Reading Prayer and the Contemplative Life continues apace. At least the questions are becoming more pertinent to my interest and actual applications. The last few have regarded prayer, what to pray about, how saints and angels (and Mary really) are involved with prayer if I thought and correctly that I had this area pretty well down. And, while the conflicting notions, when the whole question is otherwise foreign or new or technical, can be confusing, in the cases where I have some basic understandings, the contrarian thoughts actually help me see where I have gotten some of the notions I have or have held, and possibly from whom. In these areas I truly enjoy the reading. Well, I do enjoy the rest of the reading, it is more that I have nothing concrete to bring to that part of the ball game.
As well, a round of discussion about Burning Man between the chief and myself has been occuring. They have an email flier, which I had forgotten to sign up to receive, which he forwarded with a question or thought or such. The discussions began with that, then went on to other details. Have you ever heard two brothers, excited about going to the fair this summer, discussing which rides first, what food stands to hit, if the girls were going to be nice or at least whether they would have pig-tails or a pony tail by which to get their attention, and such? Yeah? Well, okay, nuff said.
While the weekend is just whizzing by, at least I feel like I am doing something this time. I am feeling it, from swimming. My shoulders, as I am even becoming able to really reach out there, are just a tad sore. And, bodily, I am a bit weary. It's not too bad, on any front. It is in line with what I actually want it to be. But I do need these weekends off, now. The little bits of work I am doing are just fine, and keep me up on things I had been slowing down with. All very good.
The Rooster of the Heights, continued...
All packed in, save for three of the five gallon water jugs, I began sorting and storing gear. Finding my flashlight by which to set up the oil lanterns and light a small fire for the night was immediately necessary. I could, probably, have done it in the near dark of dusk, having done it so often now. The risk of burning down the cabin didn't seem worth the chance. Once everything was sorted, stowed, and the day was truly over outside and in, I decided to... think.
I first got out a bottle of my fine $20 whiskey. I had three bottles, just in case. It was as good as I could afford, and then some, really. Ah well, the price kept me to the realm of the reals while drinking it. With the fire lit and the whiskey poured, I looked over the fly kit, then the gift certificate, and finally to the note. Good friends is all I could think. After that I began to think about the road. I had my laptop, of course, but no internet. Wait, actually... I wonder if my sat-phone could link up out here? My boss had expensed that for me just a year and a half ago, with trips into the desert and mountains being common and cell phone coverage being irregular to nonexistent, and deadlines being what they were. Why the road? A bit of searching found no information regarding the road. GoogleEarth didn't even seem to show what I had just driven over. Then again, do they really update as often as they suggest, especially in remote areas? Are they subject to government... suggestion? Could there be some sort of secret military base out here? Ah, but this wasn't something I was going to figure out or investigate for the paper. Not my area. Just curious. Back to the whiskey and the fire.
As I woke to the cold, I couldn't figure out why I was so cold. The furnace must be out, off, or too low. Perhaps a window broke? Getting up I realized the furnace wasn't ever going to kick in, well, until I put the wood into it and then lit that. Getting into warm morning clothes, then getting the fireplace going, then lighting the small cook stove, finally saw me returning to rightness. Coffee, first thing. My mouth was dry and that awful stale whiskey breath taste was enough for me to be begging the coffee to hurry. A few slices of bacon and a few eggs from the cooler into the pan saw to a reasonable start. Realizing I hadn't set up the shower so that would not be happening, and a cup of coffee, got me started toward what would be my day.
I grabbed my day kit, the fishing kit, the gift certificate, and headed back to town. Glen. A quick glance at the time on the dash and a bit of figuring made me almost certain I could be on the river by 11:00, noon tops. At the store I asked for Glen. He still owned, and ran, the store. He was in town, probably Salt Lake, getting supplies and running a few errands. The young woman checker, however, suggested what she had seen most of the men buying this last week. Not wanting to use my certificate on a few pieces, and uncertain information, I simply bought several of each of the types suggested. Leaving a note for Glen wouldn't really help, and he was supposed to be back later or at least by tomorrow.
As I had hoped I was on the water by 11:05. I simply... started fishing. By noonthirty I had caught my limit, if I had only kept one fish so far. A fine rainbow, not too small, not too big. Cleaned, filled with grass, and put in the basket. I had heard about trout sashimi, it just wasn't quite my thing. A small break at 3:17, for a bite to eat. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. My usual fishing fair, the only time of the year I allowed my child side to choose my cuisine. That and a coke I had snagged in town. Another hour of fishing, one more perfect trout, another rainbow, in the basket, and looking forward to a few more hours on the water when something came crashing toward me on the far side of the river.
Whatever it was it must have been massive. It seemed to be coming right toward the water, and really, directly toward me. There was simply too much undergrowth, too many trees, to get a view. It was some distance away, a hundred yards and closing? I saw small trees go over, some of which didn't seem to pop back? Had an elephant escaped the zoo? My heart was beginning to pick up the pace. I felt a bit cool as I gathered my things and started backing toward my vehicle. At first I was moving so seemingly slowly, but as the... creature... approached, I picked up speed. By the time it was within 50 yards I was packed, engine lit, and driving down the road. But, which direction was I heading, where did I want to go, what should I do? A thousand other thoughts and questions all clamoring for answers or consideration.
As it turned out I was driving deeper into the valley. I had hit the accelerator, but kept checking my rear-view mirror to see if anything appeared even when it would have been impossible to see anything at the point I had been fishing. What the hell was that? A bear? An elephant? Should I drive to town and ask? I had my .357 at the cabin. Would that even wound such a beast? I wasn't as desperate as I had been on the road on the way in, but I was shaken and upset again. Again, I thought, as if an echo was needed. Someone in town would have heard something, unless it really was an escaped elephant or tiger or such. I really didn't want to slow down, nor did I want to drive back past the spot. Something had really spooked me. The speed, the size, the sound, the trees, all of it. I realized I had to turn around! The valley dead-ended and I was beyond the turn off for the cabin. Fuck.
The drive back to town was without incident. While I didn't mean to, I did slow as I passed my fishing spot, scanning for... anything. A large animal, prints, downed trees, trampled scrub. I then wondered if it had crossed the road and about shit myself while spinning my head like a frightened kid checking under the bed. Nothing, no sign. What a trip! I sped up for the rest of the drive, cautiously, jumping at nothing from time to time. The growth on the sides of the road, something I hadn't noticed coming in, would make for easily hiding a large predator. I had to stop this nonsense, and keep my head on clear. I drove right by the cabin turn off, and my pistol. Then again, as I had wondered, would such a caliber even hurt a large beast? I bought it for... bravado? I had only shot it a few times. It went on fishing trips, otherwise collecting dust. It was the only gun I knew about and all I knew about guns.
Where to stop? The station? No. I had worked with he man before if I didn't really know him. I didn't really want to open up about this at the diner, either. Glen! He would know. He fished that stream several hours just about every day of the week. He spoke with the local and tourist fisherman. He would know if anybody would. What time was it? I had a hard time focusing, first looking at the dash but not seeing it then feinting to my watch, and back, before I realized I was in a state, calmed myself a bit, and looked cleanly at the dash. Was it really already 7:30? I think the store was open until 8:00. If Glen was going to be back today, he would be back. The store was locked. A sign on the door indicated the cashier would be back in 30 minutes but closing time was in 30 minutes. I waited, just in case. No one returned in an hour, and just as I was thinking of going to the diner for a little company to sooth my nerves, I saw the waitress... Janice, was it... stepping out of the front door, locking up behind her. Damn. Plus a dark drive to the cabin.
Well, we are getting there.
Good night.
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