Friday, November 5, 2010

Apple Stealing Day

I finally had time today to go out into the backyard, pick up all the fallen and squirrel-bit apples, and pick the un-chewed-on ones on the overhanging branches that I could reach to make applesauce. I confess I did use a cultivator with a long handle so that I could reach more apples, but most years the squirrels are the only ones who pick those apples. It's a sin to let good food go to waste and we'll eat the applesauce all winter. I went out and bought about 5# of Bartlett pears that I'm going to cook with some of them to make pear & apple sauce. That should be a new and delicious taste temptation. (Gah, too many fast food commercials!)

Dusty and I walked about 3 miles around in the mall today. It was very winter-y looking, windy and cold this morning so until we both get some longies to keep our leg muscles warm we elected to walk indoors. It's much more fun walking outside in the wind and leaves so we're planning to be ready by Tuesday to brave the elements. This week we've both noticed how much farther and easier we can walk than we could last year when we started. I think we've both also strained our arms patting ourselves on the back, but we're determined to keep our joints oiled and not get too old and creaky too fast.

If anyone knows anyone who needs a place to live in Green Bay, Wisconsin please send them our way. We've still got a half a duplex empty next door and times are tightening.

November 4--Marquesas. The view sure is different, Jake thought. He stood on the peak of Nuku Hiva just above Taiohae town. the sea was a rich navy blue and calm with a ruffle of white foam where it met the shore. White sailboats bobbed at anchor replacing the flat gray warships in his memory, and there was no pall of smoke from burning jungle or exploding shells. He heard bird calls and the clatter of the wind in the palm fronds that reminded him of the static-y crackle of the radio in the shack. Every once in a while there was the crack and thump of a ripe coconut hitting the ground that was nothing like the whistle of incoming rounds but it made him jump every time. He was glad to be back on the island in peace time but now he was too damned old to really enjoy it. When they were young, he and the boys, they could fight all day, clean up a bit, and party all night. Now he needed a nap after playing golf and he took a cart. Two drinks and he was out, and nobody smoked anymore. He'd always liked smoking but Katy had made him quit saying she didn't want to be a young widow. He was thinking of taking it up again now that his parts weren't working so good anymore. Every time he went to the doctor, the doc told Jake to quit doing something or eating something he loved and gave him a new pill or two. Some days he thought the guys who had bought it in these hills were the lucky ones. They'd gone out all at once, they hadn't died by inches the way he was.

I like old warriors and their memories. I like seeing the young brave men hidden inside.

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