That's my advice for today if you live around here. It's supposed to be just as hot and humid today as it was yesterday. I'll be at work in the cool. I'm hoping Durwood does the same, after he gets the pork steaks for supper, that is. I've had a hankering for pork steaks lately and today I will satisfy it. We got take-out ribs for supper the other night but they weren't right. They were Texas ribs, not Evansville ribs. They were dry rubbed, not sauced. Spicy, not sweet and tangy. Good but not right. Tonight's pork won't be Wolf's or Marx's ribs, but they'll be closer to right with a smear of Sweet Baby Ray's Vidalia Onion Sauce on them. Mmm, now don't you wish you were coming here for supper?
July 10--Peru, Nasca-Wari, Tunic. Steven pulled a rumpled notebook from his pocket and began writing down everything about the robe. He drew the stylized animals. There was a pair of catfish head to head in the center. Their tails blended into snakeskin and then shifted into what looked like corn stalks or maize. He was sure that's what it was. Those three, they comprises the mainstays of rural Inca culture. The old man noticed the gringo professor staring at him and flashed a toothless smile. He had worn this robe since his papi had passed it on to him. All of the white professors, especially the young women, were very interested in it. In fact he had sold it nearly twenty times through the years. He was very good at playing the dumb Indio game.
Why, that sneaky old coot. I bet he had a dozen of those "ancient" textiles marinating in a stack at the back of his stable. Keep cool today, it's a scorcher.
--Barbara
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