D’oh or Duh.

Of course we have been crosswording again today. Doh or Duh, one of which was an answer, appropriately describes us.

Earlier we packed up the trusty backpack with corned beef sandwiches and water, and the Texas tracking book, camera and gum. We figure that’s all we need in case we encounter nature. The phone call that had awakened me earlier was from a neighbor trying to find the same preserve we went to (the one we visited a couple of weeks ago and heard the mountain lion) and she and her hub were lost. As lost as you can be around here. All they needed was to turn around and go SOUTH instead of NORTH and then they would find the location.

We let a reasonable amount of time pass before we headed out, because, seriously, walking around with other doofuses wasn’t on our agenda. Once we arrived we traipsed our way through Creekside. This time we went off the official trail, that is still in development, ooh ooh, don’t tell anyone, and wandered around for a good hour and a half. It’s quite serene and foresty and we didn’t hear any more big cats. We did see many feral hog wallowings and tracks, along with a Nike or New Balance or two.

The creek, while murky and just probably crawling with untouchable items, is lovely, and we got closer this time, appreciating the sunlight play and sharper images.

Oh was that so artisticky sounding. Whatever. The last time it was cloudy and it does make a difference when the sun shines.

We confirmed that we saw a yellow crowned night heron and a broad banded water snake from up above on the banks. The snake was swimming determinedly towards something. I heard stuff rustle a while in the bushes next to us and of course had little eerie feelings as we walked. But I’m stupid like that. For some reason walking back across the same areas doesn’t bother me. I truly would not want to be in the preserve at night, and it’s closed of course, because what would one do if one saw a group of feral hogs? It’s like defensive driving. Which one of those straight up 30 foot tall trees with no reachable branches could I climb?

The trail system, when complete, will be marvelous. It goes here and there and I think next week we’re going to try to follow it all the way (if I can get the plans from people I know). We did meet a couple with their pup, who live in the same village as us, who know people in another village who have seen a mountain lion skirting about. Booyah! They also told us about the relocated hundreds of egrets who have decided to nest in a residential area, consuming all surfaces with bird poop. Is this cool or what?

So, the d’oh or duh.

We reclined, as much as we could, on our sprung patio chairs. Pencil at hand (we’ve given up on pens, it’s just too hubris-y) we proceeded to work on the puzzle. The sun was just licking at the right side of the table, mildly warm and comforting. I chopped up some boulder bread and brought out the olive oil/parmesan dip, a glass of wine and put my feet up.

After a word or two, or seven or fifteen, I moved my chair around to the 6 o’clock position on the table and Mr. Froth moved to the 10 o’clock position, because it was getting toasty toasty toasty.

After another twenty or thirty words, some of which were totally misclued by Mr. Froth thank you very much, I moved my ass to the left again. At which point I said:

“Hey. How’s about we put the umbrella up?”

Mr. Froth:”I’d forgotten we had that.”
We guffawed and snorted because we are so fricking clueless that we would have ended up sitting in the bushes avoiding the sun as we worked our puzzle.

Let’s move over a little bit more. Just a little bit more.

Crash.