Manchild

Despite reservations, the writing went well, and I got out about 800 words. Under my aim of 1,000 at a sitting, but I was happy with what came out so we'll leave it at that.

I've been using Walker Percy's The Moviegoer as a priming mechanism. The writing is so damn good that it makes me want to write. So I read a few pages, start feeling the energy, and drop the book.

It's also for this reason that I haven't been able to get through this short novel despite weeks of reading.

I have another Percy novel, his last, that contains one of my favorite opening paragraphs. I would quote it, but I don't have the book with me, but I promise to transcribe it at a later date.

Tonight I have to get back to the homestead, cook up some rice and broil some chicken -- let the cleaver ring!

Tomorrow, I'm going to try my hand at rolling some dumplings with a filling I'll make myself from pork and leeks.

*

And then there's the matter of the stock.

The price of lobsters has plummeted, so I purchased a legless wonder at the local supermarket for a few beans, as well as beef bones for stock. I've never made lobster stock before.

The spirit of experimentation!

So the result, after hours, seemed brackish and damp. It smelled of the swamp.

I'm still hoping that after cooling and reducing, it'll make a usable stock. I have my doubts. For Jess, it goes beyond doubt and she'd probably be happy if I buried the mixture out in the hills. Ah, poor Jess, putting up with the curious manchild.