Despite my feeble fingers
My poor dog. Innocence incarnate. A mix of anticipation and trepidation. Confusion, before a victory.
Today, I had the time to cook, slowly, a large pork shoulder. Bone in. Delicious, once done. And the dog, ever on the outskirts, spent the evening fascinated by the bone on the counter. Finally, after weighing the possibilities, we sent him over to his place, and delivered the bone on a plate. Nothing overboard for the dog in our lives.
And he stared, and whined, and fled. Too far outside his comfort zone. For someone who has never known the pleasure of a good gnaw, this was too much, too fast. Now, I’d like to send him outside to a grassy hollow, where he could investigate the texture and flavour… the catch is that those wily coyotes might decide to join in the feast.
Day two of a renewed acquaintance with my violin. Steady improvement, despite the feeble fingers. The bow still responds, and the notes are where they should be. I think I’ll have to shop for a better shoulder rest, since the one I’ve been lugging around for a couple of decades is much cheaper than I remembered; the tiny feet need new shoes, and after pricing the possibilities, the price point seems more like a strongly worded hint to replace (and upscale). Have to see what the local music shop has in stock, the next time we go to town. Maybe tomorrow? Not sure yet.
Returned to “Weather Underground” and added my station. New ID, which isn’t that inconvenient. Still updating, almost a day later.
