You Both Understand It

The Wallkill River follows its own logic after passing New Paltz by.  After the point where the rail trail crosses Route Seven, the river turns and turns again, forming a dramatic S before continuing on its way, which is where Thirty-two crosse over it. My wife and I were coming back from visiting the Kalleco Nursery for the first time and she asked to see the Coppersea Distillery.  I was certain I could take a right off Thirty-two and get there but each time road proved a cul de sac as they came upon the river.  Eventually I figured out you needed to go up into New Paltz, cross the bridge and then cut over to Seven.  My biker’s geography and the one formed by driving were finally being sewn into place.

 

Just was in the garage sawing points on to stakes so we can bang them into the earth more easily.  When the girls come back from running in a fifteen-minutes or so, we’re going to carve multiple small pumpkins and then find some place in the yard, perhaps down close to the trail to bang them all in.  Unlike a normal Jack ‘o’ lantern, where a candle would need to sit, we need to cut the bottom out and create a throat to rest the head on.  Strange haunted gathering of pumpkin heads, for no apparent reason, that the forest will slowly reclaim. 

 

The President has Covid 19.  An overweight septuagenarian, he is necessarily a high-risk profile.  “Get Well Mr. President.”  The New York Times editorial summarized it thoughtfully.  As a fellow human being, as another father, I wish you health and a speedy recover.  I do.  And it is appropriate that we wish you well.  You have not been well.  You have been anything but well for some time now.

 

I earnestly wish you good health and a speedy recovery so that you can face defeat in thirty-days with both feet planted on the ground, fully cognizant, in possession of all of your bombast so that you can taste pubic defeat and feel the echo.  This is important for all of us.  We must soundly defeat you so that you we and you both understand it.  

Have become hooked, I’m afraid.  I’m in the second large book of “Lone Wolf and Cub.”  I’m coming to think of it like a Robert Van Gulik look at medieval China in that Dutch diplomat’s  Judge Dee series.  I carry around the tannic from steeping in so much odd Confucian, Shinto, Buddhist, Bushido cross cutting currents.  We move swiftly, like the blade from one justice tension to another.  Very glad to be reading.  Though I don’t know if anyone else will join me.

 

 

 

Saturday, 10/03/20