Yep, it is that time of the year. I dress in black, play sad songs, and mope because I am one year older. Not really. I do hate staying at home alone, though, on this day. I think about it, and in the past 10 years I have celebrated it in Ireland, England several times, Prague twice, Italy and in several other places in this country. Weird that I escape for this day, even if it is to be alone somewhere else.
This year I am in Northern Wisconsin, which is pretty fun. Except for the rain and fog. I was up early and it was dry but very foggy until about 9:30, but it has rained pretty steadily since then. But I can say that I haven't had a single wood tick call me home. Yet.
I stopped for breakfast at 6:30 in the little dinner in Port Wing, and it was great to listen to the local gentry share news and gossip. I learned a lot-who had a 7 centimeter hernia repaired, who caught an otter while fishing, and that they shot a 586 pound bear way less than a mile from my estate. Wow. I'm not a big fan of hunting, but I have to say I am kind of glad that monster isn't roaming through my campsite! I am not sure what I would say to him (or frankly, what I would say to any of his smaller cousins) if I did come face to face. Hi? Salted nut roll? I did see bear poop before, so I know they are there, and my neighbors bait bears just on the end of my land. I guess as long as I see bear poop and don't make up part of their poop I am ok.
I am killing time in a great coffee shop while I wait for my favorite place to eat to open for the dinner rush. Broiled whitefish livers followed by grilled lake trout. I bet it will be considerably better than Roberto's.
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