By David Keplinger
—David Abram
Like an enormous leech the pancreas lies with its head tucked into the duodenum, upside down, the tail outstretched over it, an animal curled in on itself. In the preserve jar of the belly, it wriggles like a strange, medieval cure. When we sleep, Anicka, the pancreas secretes its juices, reverting tonight's toutlerre into Germanic syllables again: cake, meat, blood. All of this healing is out of our hands. I turn to you, completely unconscious. Completely unconscious, you turn to me.
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Saturday felt more like fall than winter, for which I am grateful because I am not ready for winter, even though the light doesn't start coming back till the solstice and I am very ready for that. We had a fairly quiet morning, then after lunch we went to Blockhouse Point along the C&O Canal, since we had never hiked there before, and then to Pennyfield Lock, so we could walk along the Potomac River. The sky was gorgeous and we saw a surprising number of animals given the cold -- lots of songbirds, herons, a raccoon, a bird of prey that may be a juvenile osprey or broad-shouldered hawk, plus bunnies when we got home:
We came home to watch the Maryland-Michigan game, which I did not have high hopes that the Terps would win since it was in Ann Arbor. But the Terps played well (plus the Wolverines made a couple of big mistakes) and Maryland won 23-16! After that delightful result, we had ravioli soup for dinner, and our neighbor brought us chocolate-covered key lime pie from the restaurant where she was having dinner in Alexandria after I begged her on Facebook. At that point I was in the mood for something British, so we watched Colin Firth in My Life So Far, which can't quite decide whether it wants to be a comedy or a farce but is still enjoyable.
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