I went on a little hike this morning, at Bishop's Peak. There's this little river that you have to jump over to reach the trail. It usually isn't that bad, but because of the recent rains, it was a bit deeper than usual. I jumped it beautifully and hiked up to a big rock, which I sat on and read "The Razor's Edge," yet another seriously awesome Maugham book. I was feeling a little Lord of the Rings-y; the landscape around here does that to me, all the rolling green hills and rocks. On my way back, the creek seemed a lot deeper, and there wasn't a very good jumping point from the other side. A vision of myself, waist-deep in stagnant water flashed through my mind. I backed up, got a little running start, and jumped. I almost made it. They don't call me short legs for nothing. The driver's side seat in my car is still damp.


Anonymous said...

I'm posting this anonymously to avoid becoming a regular member with a code and all. As a live-aloner, you know that it is rare that you, by yourself, at home will laugh out loud. Actually laugh out loud. Unless, of course, you're feeling lonely and then start to talk to imaginary people or the TV. But, you will be hopefully happy to know that I laughed out loud alone and naked with a rash covering myself as a result of mono to your entry that included POUR SOME SUGAR ON ME. And, in a terrible selfish way, thinking your experience and your blog has anything in the world to do with me, I remembered being at the Albertson's near our Parkmerced existence and a man in front of us unabashedly farting. Your entire Blog world is the best there will ever be and I am now saving it and planning to check it daily to ensure future laughing out loud aloneness. Love, Liz

Clive Dangerously said...