It is the eve of garbage day. My trash truck is down at the end of the road waiting for pickup.
My life has been exciting.
I bought parsnips and prepared them. They were good. My family said they were good. They just weren't something anyone was desiring to eat again. In my mind I was loudly thinking, fried potatoes are not the only vegetable we can eat. Actually I only fry potatoes about once every two or three months. I love fried potatoes, and I have to limit myself which I don't like to do. I plan to plant parsnips in my garden. We all need a bit of variety in our diet.
Tonight, my dog Louise just disappeared in the dark. She is a black dog. I have an area I dump scraps of food and vegetable scraps. I had dumped some boiled peanuts, sour grapes, an expired banana, long ago cooked collards, incredibly ancient carrots along with the usual coffee grounds, potato peels, egg shells and the like in the field in front of my house. I was puzzled that my spoiled dog would plunder these remains. I do have two dogs that frequently sample the lazy chick's compost scatter. One is a dachshund, the other is my older brother's elderly rottweiler mix. Neither dog goes hungry but it is the found food is so delicious dog mentality at work.
My neighbour is paranoid that someone or a dog is going to mess with his horses. They have called the law on me for sundry offenses such as I have pulled fence posts from the ground. Luckily, law enforcement doubted my ability to do so. Even if I could, I would not waste what is left with my body and back on spite. Idiots.
They were out there patrolling their property with their golf cart and bright lights. I have woken up in the middle of the night because they are patrolling their property line. Oh dang, where is Louise. I crank my car and drive a wee bit in the driveway. That dog will do anything for a car ride. Still no Louise, so I go into the house and decide to look in my bedroom. She is in there on my bed with a dead opossum.
I take the sheet off my bed with the opossum wrapped up thinking I need to dump it away from my property. I put the sheet with opossum in the car seat next to me to take near the river landing area. That is about a mile from my house. As I exit my driveway, I realize that opossum is not dead. It is passed out. So I pull over as fast as I can and empty that sheet quickly on the side of the road.
I came close to getting to know too personally a opossum in my car at 11 PM at night.
Of course I could have butchered the opossum. I understand people used to eat roasted possum with sweet potatoes. I plan to bake sweet potatoes tomorrow. I have a feeling if I did that; no one would ever roll their eyes at me about trying something new like parsnips.
Meanwhile, Louise is unhappy. I took her prize. She looks at me with the knowledge that I just ruined everything for her. The other dogs walk around anxious like, we are thinking about having a PArtY toNiGhT. We think we know someone who has a opossum. It's going to be grand.
|Young Opossum by Liam Wolfe (Wikimedia Commons)|