I wasn’t looking for it, rather looking at it, and didn’t really know what to make of it, all of the information not at hand, and then some simple math that would put it into a nameable context. So I did a little rummaging.
A couple days ago I posted my 800th piece on this here blog. I was both impressed and confused, for while I had no idea I had been doing this that much, I was unclear as to how long. The answer: three weeks shy of two years. Of course, the word count lacks in some instances.
I played a little poker the other night. Nothing special. Poker Academy with a few of the regulars, and a batch of newbies without much more in their accounts than what they had at the table. One such short player in the CO raises my BB. Not a lot, but nowadays I’m seeing a flop with anything connected or the like if I’m getting 2-1 HU. Not that it’s paying off; I’m just doing it because I can afford to experiment and I want to see just how infrequently it works out.
So, anyway, I have 89h and I call. The flop comes 8c9c6h and I bet the pot. He calls. Turn is 5c, I bet half and he calls. 5s on the river, he has pittance left and surely better two pair. Eh.
Yeah, eh. Next. These days I only get excited when I can run a bluff. That’s good, right? Better? Like the guy was going to fold his Aces.
There’s a lesson in here somewhere.
The new compost pile is coming along nicely, steam rising this morning before the sun broke, and I weed-whacked enough of the long stuff to add another 25% to it today. I’ll be mowing the quarter acre adjacent in the next week or so and add that as well. The bucket on the Kubota will push a sizable windrow, don’t you know.
Haying has commenced. Picture this:
I pull onto our gravel by the full moon.
In the cooling air the sweet smell of fresh hay
And coyotes coming up from the river bottom
To see if I brought bunnies with me from Portland.
It doesn’t have to be rabbits.
Sometimes I like to just sit in my truck. Try writing this shit while driving.