I am at my parents' place in Mariposa, near Yosemite, which is 100 degrees today. We decided against hiking and in favor of reading in the swamp-cooled house.
I finished Karen Healey's The Shattering
(excellent, to be reviewed later) and Louis L'Amour's memoir Education of a Wandering Man
, which is mostly about all the books he read in his lifetime, many of which I am hoping are now available free online. Kebi (step-mom) is reading A Dance with Dragons
, and Dad is reading It Will Live Forever : Traditional Yosemite Indian Acorn Preparation
. He bought the latter from its author at the fair yesterda, after being inspired by the accounts of acorn preparation in Walking Where We Lived : Memoirs of a Mono Indian Family
, and is planning to use its very detailed instructions to make acorn. I've told him I want to be here when he tries it. I have been dying to try acorn for ages.
The fair had some moderately large vegetables, excellent fry bread but a sad lack of other actual traditional/local food, and dachshund races, run on a track adorned by a black cow skull on a pedestal, which were won by a non-dachshund ringer, I suspect a labrador puppy. Fixed!
When we went to a local restaurant, we discovered that it was dinner theatre night, and we subjected to a peculiar act which I can only describe as "Time-traveling Catskills drag queens."
"Would you like to touch my pussy?" (Drag queen hands hapless old guy in audience a stuffed cat.)
"But no fondling my ass!" (Sidekick holds up photo of donkey.)
Later, we got the dance of the seven veils: "I am Salome! A vision came on me... I mean, came TO me..."
Some drunks in the back started yelling, "Take it ALL off!" The food, however, was excellent, and due to Kebi's entree arriving late, we got free beer. It turns out that two bottles of Snowiesen are insufficient to make me laugh at double-entendres about cucumbers. We fled at intermission.