Author Archives: didofoot
In a new beer joint, all the waitresses are new.
Kris: What’s the cask ale tonight? Waitress: It’s…a beer? Kris: …Right. But…what kind of beer? Waitress: Um, it’s like a kind of golden beer… Kris: I guess I mean, what style is it? Waitress: Oh, it’s a German style? Kris: … Waitress: …Should I just get you the information card? Kris: That would be great, … Continue reading
Camping at Glacier National Park
Gene and I were sitting at the picnic table at our campsite, playing Dominion and drinking microbrews (are you seeing a theme here?) when we heard a terrific thumping and grumbling coming from the campsite next to ours. The sites at Glacier, at least in this campground, are divided by stands of trees, which is … Continue reading
Camping at North Dickey Lake, Montana
Gene and I are sitting at the picnic table at our campsite playing twenty or thirty rounds of Dominion and drinking microbrews (why? what do YOU do when you camp?) when a minivan pulls up to our site and honks. We turn around. For about half a minute, the driver just sits and stares at … Continue reading
Meditations on a pocket gopher
The pocket gopher is a solitary creature. It does not even like other pocket gophers. If two pocket gophers encounter one another, they frequently fight to the death. So how are there still pocket gophers in the world? Is there some kind of underground lab where pocket gophers are cloning themselves? Nope. As you might … Continue reading
The silence of the cheese
We have vines drooping with tomatoes and overflowing pots of basil in our garden, so naturally I am thinking about mozzarella today, the third ingredient in a caprese salad. It is my understanding — and taking a few Italian classes by no means makes me an expert, so don’t quote me on this or anything … Continue reading
New! Improved?
We have a new look here at Carthage! Questions? Comments? Feedback? All can now be left in the new, improved comments. No more signing in (for now, anyway), and no more long wait for your comment to load, followed by an incomprehensible error message. I am not married to any part of this template, just … Continue reading
Step-ins
Gene: Blah blah blah Randy Savage. Me: Ha ha! Randy Savage. ‘Step into a Slim Jim.’ *crickets* Gene: Did you just say ‘step into a Slim Jim’? Me: Yes? Gene: Not snap into a Slim Jim? Me: Uh… Gene: What is this, like Slim Jim-themed lingerie? ‘Excuse me, I’m going to go step into a … Continue reading
In which we meet some neighbors
Gene got out the hedge clippers on Saturday night to clean up some of the greedier branches blocking the front paths, and I got out a beer and sat around to watch him clean up the branches. While he was clipping, he found a little robin’s nest in the loquat tree out front. I knew … Continue reading
I know a man with a wooden leg named Smith.
Last night I dreamed I found raccoons in our basement. Given the general brass balls of the Alameda raccoons, it’s not impossible that this will prove prophetic, but I think it was more likely my brain reminding me that I still have a load of laundry in the dryer waiting to be folded. Housewife dreams, … Continue reading
Harriet Vane
I have a new imaginary pet dog. (Some of you may remember my other imaginary pet dog, Honey. She’s still around too.) My new dog is a beagle named Harriet Vane, after the heroine of the Lord Peter Wimsey mystery novels by Dorothy Sayers. Like Harriet Vane in the books, my Harriet is inquisitive and … Continue reading