riparian rap

Happy wife weekend (and snake eating story).

We’ll see if Kate ever reads my blog.

Today was beautiful in Carbondale–in the high 40’s, sunny. We took the dogs for a long walk this afternoon. When we got back Kate wrapped herself in blankets on the futon with dog, cat, and bread fresh from the oven made and delivered by yours truly. We enjoyed a beautiful sunset. A hawk came through the yard as a silhouette just as it got dark.

I’m getting some GI tests this week and am reminded of a story I haven’t told for a long time, probably because Kate, who is scared of snakes (genetic thing) does not like it much.

All true: When I was at the US Coast Guard Academy (1978) some jerky drunk upperclassmen fresh off the rugby field thought they’d scare a few of us underclassmen (we were militarily subject to them) with a pitiful little snake they’d found and killed. Most of these guys were from New England, and considered themselves brave to have touched a dead snake. But in my southern Arkansas childhood they were common. I took the snake and bit off and swallowed the head and gave back the bloody body. This caused a big ruckus and we all got into trouble, but it was well worth it.