Tom was walking around the parking lot when I arrived. We had a verbal-only show and tell. His friend, the picker, found three items for him yesterday – a 150 year old cradle in perfect condition, a wine bottle opener that had silver on the antler handle, and a cast iron plant holder. I wondered what he’d use the cradle for, and he said it’s the coming thing to use it for a magazine holder. Who knew?
Actually, Tom used another term for the antler corkscrew. I understood what he was talking about because of the way his hand was shaped and the way he turned it slightly as he spoke. He called it a screw pull. I made him repeat it so that I could memorize the words. When you look back on a pun, you realize the best ones pop out, unbidden. That’s what happened with the screw pull. With almost no direction from me, I heard my voice say, “You have no scruples using it, I guess.”
We walked all the way to the bathhouse, and I touched the railing with both hands, one for me and one for Nancy who now lives in St. Louis/Chicago. Dennis talked about his 90+ dad who was put in a nursing home Friday and is having a difficult time adjusting.
Dave drew up with a flourish at the marina. Tom said, “You don’t stop for me!”
Dave began to say he sees Tom all the time, but he jumped in to play the one up-man-ship game. He said, “I ran out of gas. Coasted here.”
Fast thinking, Dave.
Glancing into Dave’s car, Tom asked, “Did you clean out your car, Dave?”
“Naw,” Dave replied. “Must have gone around a curve too fast.”
I asked, “How would you clean it out? Open the windows and speed around corners?”
Dave replied, “I’d clean it the same way I clean my house. Open the doors and use a blower.”
Last night Nate commented on the full moon dressed in salmon or pink. It was more white this morning, both times magnified near the horizon. It’s always special to have moon set and sun rise within minutes of each other.
I did almost my whole walk, going to the traffic light and into Avalon on the way back. The most insistent bird song came from red-winged blackbirds, very active in the reeds near Hercules. For old time’s sake, I listened to the singing stones and took yet another photo.