Saturday I went out with a friend for lunch. The lunch sent me and my intestines to hell and I’m still there. The first time I ate in this restaurant, the same thing happened. Now I know it’s cause and effect. I should have been prudent and said, “That place made me sick last time I ate there,” but I didn’t.
My planned hike today with friends isn’t going to happen and I expect to spend the morning, anyway, here on the sofa with John Hersey. Seems like the prudent choice…
As for hiking…
A long time ago I wanted to be a boy scout because the Boy Scout Handbook was full of useful stuff like how to treat snake bite and how to tell your friends which way you went on a trail through the use of ducks. Ducks are rocks piled in such a way that they show direction. In my hikes here I’ve seen cairns, but no ducks. I don’t think everyone knows about ducks, but cairns are obvious.
While I feel the rocks should be left in place, and piles should be reserved for meaningful messages, there’s a common belief that it’s good luck to add a rock to a cairn. People are reassured knowing people have been there (are there). I suppose they are a kind of “Trail Confidence Marker.”
I wish that life had these markers. That would make more sense. Life is vague and the decisions are inscrutable. It would be nice when confronted with a life-changing decision to happen upon a “Trail Confidence Marker.” Then we could say, “Oh, OK, cool, this is the trail that takes me where I want to go. I’m here on the map.”
The problem is we don’t always know where we want to go and there is no map.
Obviously, in this house, anyway, physical problems lead to existential questions. 🙂
In other news, it’s supposed to snow.