my first sex, the bed broke. my first motorcycle ride, i left the road flying upside down at 100 mph through the air. now, my first camping trip, the big bad weather wolf is huffing and puffing and trying to blow my tent down.
i figure lady k couldn’t break me any other way, so she decided to take me camping. it’s rained each night. rained some of each day we’ve been here. rained all day past three days. but last night was both rain and wind storm. lay in bed watching the tent jump about, waiting to be drenched after the gales blew our roof away.
in rare rain break, i ran outside to relieve myself. this morning we see a slime slug trail across our floor mat ending in a big slime splotch on the floor – same shape and size of my bare heel. would appear when dashed through the dark to honor my urination station, i inadvertantly committed slugocide.
hmmm…. give lady k 3 glasses of wine, and she turns into a love puppy. i’m in my 17th year of not drinking, but seeing the mona lisa smile on her face, i wish i could imbibe.
down at the watering hole, i saw a worm wigging in the bottom of the water tub. looked like it was trying to get out, but i wasn’t sure if maybe it belonged there. so i told it if it wanted me to take it out, to make a perfect circle. it immediately made a circle to the left with its tail, then again to its right – so i took it out. did i save an earth worm, or kill a water worm?
next day.
yesterday afternoon had sunshine for a change. dried out our wet clothes, wet shoes, wet tent, wet souls. this morning had sunshine again, so washed clothes and hung them on bushes to dry. then the rains came.
next next day.
and the deluge came down. our drying clothes atre wetter than when we washed. it’s hard to lie in bed with a full bladder listening to the rain water pound down on the tent while i wait for a rain break to urinate. dashed out, tipped over a bin of cherry tomatoes, crushed one with my slug killing heel. tomatoes leaves better looking corpses than slime slugs.
walking through the fields to the shower at dawn, i watched what looked like steam clouds rise from the trees and mountains, joining their big brother clouds in the sky. this is a cloud factory here. gorgeous.
lane foot farm is 440 years old. the houses, sheds, barns are all built of stone with slate roofs. old. peaceful. quiet. green. serene.
each day i wake more tired than the day before. no rest when my 1/2 of the air mattress is narrower than i am, and my 6 foot 3 is longer than the mattress.
we cut our internet prices – the library charges lady $4, and lets me on for free because i’m old, and the old get what they call ‘concessions’ here.
the slime slugs got me this morning for killing their brethern in the night. took off my hat after returning from my dawn shower and saw a slime trail across the entire top. followed the trail to the fold over the brim – lifted the overhang of the bill up and found a brown black slug. i’d worn the hat with slug down to the showers and back. i didn’t kill the slug – released it to the bushes so it could tell its tale of the day it rode the hat to hell and back. i have fotos of slime and slug on hat to post when we get back to london.
sometimes i think we should change the name of our blog to The Mis-Adventures of Smith & Lady.