Noshing Nutkin

If food is poetry, is not poetry also food?

Joyce Carol Oates


Ruby Redshoes is quite sassy in her tameness. American Reds are a bit devilish, wilder than my other wild mates. This was taken using my 50mm and I was scary close, the image is only slightly cropped to square it off. She fussed and spit and drummed her little feet, poetry in motion as she polished off her meal.

The lawn tractor awaits, then making a meal for a childhood friend. She was run down by an elderly driver in her work parking lot while taking a noontime walk. Luckily he stopped before driving over the two women he knocked down. My friend has a badly broken leg surgically pinned and patched up. She can't put weight on it until November. She knows how lucky she really is, escaping a head injury, or worse.

Then final packing and cat sitter instructions, we're going to Maine Thursday afternoon , coming home Monday. A friend in Machiasport reports no storm damages or power outages. Route 95 will be clear and we'll get there by 9:30 PM hopefully. It's our last chance till 2012 to be at the house.

Schools are open and the best news is I'm still a RETIRED school teacher!

For the Record,
This day came in warm and pleasant, a fine late summer day.