1/31/10 GOING DOWNHILL

YELLOW MOON IN A BLACK SKY
THICK ENOUGH TO CUT IT WITH A KNIFE

Sunday, 9:00 AM. 10 degrees, wind W, calm. Fog permeates the atmosphere, and a very light, granular, sugar-like snow is falling. Snow covers the channel ice as two ferries, one closely following the other, plow across it. The silver sun is trying with little success to shine through an atmosphere thick enough to cut with a knife.
As lucky and I were walking this morning a younger guy in a red pickup truck stopped, rolled down the window, and said, “Pardon me, sir, but my dog would like to say hello to your dog.” His was a Springer about twice the size of Lucky, but otherwise identical. As I scratched his dog's ears,the young guy told me he was going ice fishing for trout with his best friend. He came from a family of thirteen children, and of necessity they ate venison all winter. His buddy came from a large family also, his father was a commercial fisherman and they ate nothing but fish all winter, so as kids the two friends would alternate inviting each other over for dinner so they each got a change in their monotonous menus. Today our Nanny State would declare such children deprived and put their families on some sort of an administrative watch list. Give me a break!
Joan and I went out to dinner last night to celebrate our wedding anniversary of several days ago, which we had both (lucky for me) forgotten. The moon came up golden orange in a black sky, so I detoured to the coal dock in Washburn to try to get a photo. As we sat in the dark car Joan asked me what I would do if the Border Patrol came up and demanded to know what we were doing there, and I said, “I would just tell them we were waiting for a drug drop from Canada.” She said I wouldn’t dare, and I said, “Try me.” Things sort of went down hill from there.