Syllabus #217

Last weekend was a mercifully long weekend, and we spent Monday hiking in Beaman Park.  I say 'spent Monday' rather than 'spent the morning' or 'passed the afternoon' because at one point, I thought that hike was going to be the rest of our lives.  Andy got bitten by a horsefly, and I got stung on the bridge of my nose by something sizable that flew directly into my face with such force that the impact hurt almost as much as the sting.  

What was advertised as a 6 mile hike turned into a 7.5 mile hike because the trailhead was located halfway around the loop of a shorter trail, and then it expanded into nearly 9 miles because we stupidly took the wrong side of the fork on the trail leading back to the car.  Back when we lived out west, a hike of upwards of 15 miles wouldn't have been out of the question, but it hits different when you're drowning in humidity, swarmed by buzzing and biting insects, and end up traveling 30% further than the hike you were prepared for.  

The highlight of the hike was crossing paths with a group of four Nature Nuns.  Out of respect, I didn't take their picture, but I thought I was hallucinating when we first spotted them through the trees.  They were dressed in white habits, either owing to the heat or because they were wearing them one last time before the good Lord sayeth thou shalt not wear white after Labor Day.  

At first, I assumed they were bachelorettes dressed as sexy nuns, because that seemed a much more obvious explanation than encountering a group of actual Sisters just tromping through the woods.  However, when we crossed paths with them, they were genuinely polite and looked too wholesome to be hours away from getting turnt on Broadway or flashing their jugs from a pedal tavern.  They yielded the trail to us and did not once ask us to Venmo them money to buy the bride a drink, so I am fairly confident they were legitimate nuns.

Guard cat/resident gargoyle

 

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Speaking of people of the cloth, have you heard about our comedy Lord and Savior, Danny McBride?  

It's too bad America can't have nice things.  These public pools in France look lovely.  

Lol forever at this fraudster not getting hot vegan meals, and being released on bail to play video games at his parents house.  I'm sure my mom would take me in if I was in dire straits, but like, wouldn't I at least be grounded or have to do chores if I had to move back home while awaiting trial?   Oh and he's having a sad because he ran out of Adderall.  So has everyone else, apparently!  (Srsly, ask any teacher!)  But also, what do you have to concentrate on in jail?  I would think jail would be less oppressive if you were literally unable to dwell on how much it sucked because you can't pay attention to any one thing for long enough.  

My condolences to the family, but maybe this kid just needed to get good.  I can totally relate to the crippling stomach pain following the consumption of extreme levels of spice on an otherwise empty stomach, though.  I did almost have explosive diarrhea on the streets of St. Augustine after just such a folly, so it happens to the best of us.

And here I thought there were no moops.

 

Analog Reading:

Finished The Sisters Brothers by Patrick deWitt.  It picked up towards the end, and the stark and sudden reversal of fortune felt appropriate.

Read, Undermajordomo Minor by Patrick deWitt.  I think that's the end of my deWitt kick for a while.  In fact, I may have now read all of his published books.  It was a strange one, to be sure.  deWitt seems to like to genre-hop just like Colson Whitehead, but he's nowhere near the master that CW is.

Just started Tom Lake, Ann Patchett's new book.  It is utterly enrapturing, as usual.  Ann Patchett is a national and Nashville treasure.