The Wide Angle: Time makes everything seem wildly absent
Published 5:30 pm Friday, November 19, 2021
It’s been a while since I’ve had the time to compose my daily wanderings of the mind — mid October if we are dating such things.
You wouldn’t be wrong to assume that throughout a month’s worth of time of not writing inane things that I would have plenty of content stored up in my fleshy hard-drive to bring to paper any assortment of subjects.
A moment if you will … 63 … 64 … 65 … 66 … nuts, that’s not near enough words.
I suppose I could tell you of the book I am currently writing of which I’m sure if she is reading this, Alice Holst is smiling. I wouldn’t smile quite yet though. To date, I’ve started roughly 75 (pretty sure that’s an exaggeration) great American novels and have published exactly … zero. And that’s a serious “zero” as implied by the fact I spelled out “zero” and didn’t simply use “0.” Also by the fact I have finished not one attempt.
To my credit I will say this one has progressed farther along than most, but that still doesn’t mean much. My garden has come along better than most years and I’m still a long ways away from submitting anything to the Mower County Fair. The closest was a carrot that appeared to have a set of criss crossed legs. It was … disturbing.
So we won’t talk about my attempt at rivaling Arthur C. Clarke.
Christmas lights are an option as well. That tends to be a yearly adventure that has yet to result in a visit by Mayo Ambulance staff offering to give me a ride to Mayo Clinic Health Systems – Austin.
But that’s not interesting if I’m not all akimbo on my way to the decidedly unsoft ground, while tangled in Christmas lights. It’s just a guy stringing Christmas lights up along the front of the house, silently being judged by the cats looking out through our front window.
I’m not even sure what they are judging me on, but I know they are. Buster just has that “look” and well, Nemi just looks kind of confused. Her default look if I’m to be honest.
Hey! Maybe that’s the route. I haven’t talked about our fur demons in awhile and somebody just asked me randomly how they were doing just the other day.
And without stories of my cats I do, in the most concerned way possible, wonder how our mayor fills his day. He really likes our cats.
But alas, they’ve been oddly normal the last few weeks. Yeah, they don’t recognize Daylight Savings Time, and rightly so. Nobody even really understands why DST is even still a thing.
But it confused them nonetheless, which is why 5 a.m. was the new time to wake us for morning food time. It was unfair for us, but considering the accusatory tone in their cries, we are apparently the worst cat parents in the world anyway. Might as well own up to our war crimes.
So the cats are boring and there’s nothing there to really talk about.
What about … no, that’s stupid.
Let’s see. The garden is done, Thanksgiving is around the corner … hey! I made a new pie the other day. Butternut squash pie.
I was pretty excited about this especially with Thanksgiving, as I’ve previously stated, just around the corner. I found myself in the surprising situation of enjoying roasted butternut squash not long ago and thought to myself, “self, this would make a good pie instead of a pumpkin pie.”
Both me and myself agreed on this and after a short amount of digging on the interweb, discovered one such recipe. The next week, I purchased the aforementioned squash, roasted it, and made my pie. Two of them for the sake of the record.
I took both of the pies out of the oven, waited for the appropriate time for them to cool, whipped out the whipped topping and sat down to enjoy a glorious culinary experience.
It tasted … like pumpkin pie.
Have I always been this dull?