I'm choosing to believe that you were actually teaching the boys to skip rope while you were trying to avoid being eaten by bears and that's why your arm is sore. But... it was good for Rocky, so I'm sure it'll be good for you too :)
Without making any kind of fuss, this is a gentle reminder that we'll need to do Hindsight next week, too.
Skipping It was full dark when we arrived back in Elizabethtown, but to my surprise (and seemingly not Jimmy's) Josie was still pottering about in her kitchen. She nodded when she saw us, banged a few pans, and started pouring something onto plates. I looked over at Ben, who was already setting the silk down on the ground and rolling his shoulders, and then at Jimmy who was sat at the long table and realised that there was no point suggesting that we stow the balloon away first. "You had a long day," said Josie, setting plates in front of us. Smells wafted up to me: scorched corn, fresh tomato, coriander and cheese. My mouth started watering and my stomach gurgled abruptly, reminding me that we'd not eaten since breakfast and that that hadn't been much. "We were hunting for spoor," I said. I poked the food and smelled what might be pork. Something shredded and meaty was wrapped up in a tortilla; there was cheese melting over it, a salsa pushed to one side, a red, oily sauce that hinted at chile-heat... it looked diabolical and was incredibly tempting. "And we went and retrieved our balloon," said Ben, though his words were indistinct through a mouthful of food. He never skipped food when it was available. "What's left of it." Jimmy leaned back in his chair, fanning his mouth. That suggested that there was some real heat to the food, so I started eating it. I'm not admitting to tears forming at the corners of my eyes. "Did you find any?" Josie's words were casual, but she was taking her time about leaving the table and us to eat in peace. Though as the chile heat built in my mouth, I wondered just how peaceful the night was going to be. "Not exactly," I said, thinking about what we'd seen. "There's a lot of ground to cover out there, and if there's only one chupacapra it could pretty much skip around us for weeks without making an effort. We found a couple of hollows, and a deep overhang up on the mountain, but nothing that would work as a lair. We're thinking that it might be a bit further upstream and it's having trouble finding its usual food so has increased its search area a bit. "Could be," said Josie, "could be. The copper mine's upstream." There was no challenge there exactly, but maybe the challenge was in the food. My face felt like it was burning. "It won't be in the mine," said Ben. "Too many people, you'd know about it already. It would have to be on the other side of the gulch, probably over the other side of the mountain since if it was this side you'd likely have seen it at the mine." "Aha," said Josie. She shuffled away and came back a minute later with some glasses of milk. "Some folks find I put a mite too much chile in the enchiladas," she said. "Milk quenches the fires of the heart." I tried not to gulp. Truth was, the food was amazing, but the heat was a little furnace-like. "We're thinking we'll go out over the mountain for a couple of days," said Jimmy. "We'll camp over there, see what there is. We've got more chance of finding it if we're using ourselves as bait." "That's brave," said Josie, and for the first time I heard a note of doubt creep into her words. It vanished pretty darn fast though. "But it makes sense. And we could definitely do with something to show that it's safe round here. Ain't no-one going to come out and help mine copper if there's a chupacapra around."
2 comments:
I'm choosing to believe that you were actually teaching the boys to skip rope while you were trying to avoid being eaten by bears and that's why your arm is sore. But... it was good for Rocky, so I'm sure it'll be good for you too :)
Without making any kind of fuss, this is a gentle reminder that we'll need to do Hindsight next week, too.
Skipping
It was full dark when we arrived back in Elizabethtown, but to my surprise (and seemingly not Jimmy's) Josie was still pottering about in her kitchen. She nodded when she saw us, banged a few pans, and started pouring something onto plates. I looked over at Ben, who was already setting the silk down on the ground and rolling his shoulders, and then at Jimmy who was sat at the long table and realised that there was no point suggesting that we stow the balloon away first.
"You had a long day," said Josie, setting plates in front of us. Smells wafted up to me: scorched corn, fresh tomato, coriander and cheese. My mouth started watering and my stomach gurgled abruptly, reminding me that we'd not eaten since breakfast and that that hadn't been much.
"We were hunting for spoor," I said. I poked the food and smelled what might be pork. Something shredded and meaty was wrapped up in a tortilla; there was cheese melting over it, a salsa pushed to one side, a red, oily sauce that hinted at chile-heat... it looked diabolical and was incredibly tempting.
"And we went and retrieved our balloon," said Ben, though his words were indistinct through a mouthful of food. He never skipped food when it was available. "What's left of it."
Jimmy leaned back in his chair, fanning his mouth. That suggested that there was some real heat to the food, so I started eating it. I'm not admitting to tears forming at the corners of my eyes.
"Did you find any?" Josie's words were casual, but she was taking her time about leaving the table and us to eat in peace. Though as the chile heat built in my mouth, I wondered just how peaceful the night was going to be.
"Not exactly," I said, thinking about what we'd seen. "There's a lot of ground to cover out there, and if there's only one chupacapra it could pretty much skip around us for weeks without making an effort. We found a couple of hollows, and a deep overhang up on the mountain, but nothing that would work as a lair. We're thinking that it might be a bit further upstream and it's having trouble finding its usual food so has increased its search area a bit.
"Could be," said Josie, "could be. The copper mine's upstream."
There was no challenge there exactly, but maybe the challenge was in the food. My face felt like it was burning. "It won't be in the mine," said Ben. "Too many people, you'd know about it already. It would have to be on the other side of the gulch, probably over the other side of the mountain since if it was this side you'd likely have seen it at the mine."
"Aha," said Josie. She shuffled away and came back a minute later with some glasses of milk. "Some folks find I put a mite too much chile in the enchiladas," she said. "Milk quenches the fires of the heart."
I tried not to gulp. Truth was, the food was amazing, but the heat was a little furnace-like.
"We're thinking we'll go out over the mountain for a couple of days," said Jimmy. "We'll camp over there, see what there is. We've got more chance of finding it if we're using ourselves as bait."
"That's brave," said Josie, and for the first time I heard a note of doubt creep into her words. It vanished pretty darn fast though. "But it makes sense. And we could definitely do with something to show that it's safe round here. Ain't no-one going to come out and help mine copper if there's a chupacapra around."
Greg - thanks for the reminder. I've been off and on about remembering Hindsight, but I'll make sure to get it in this week.
I am impressed with Josie's cooking. And the boys' ability to consume it, even with milk.
Sounds like they're off into the wilderness for a few days then, or at least Jimmy's prodding them in that direction.
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