Dowdy has this little one-eyed, electric stove that he bought after selling a spoon a couple of months ago. I was naturally feeling pretty good about the situation, about myself, and now about the fact that there is kitchen I can bum off somebody when my gas runs out as it did this week. For the past three days I have been heading over to Dowdy’s shop with seasonings, yams, and whatever else I have leftover from this months effort to feed myself with a Peace Corps living allowance. Seeing that he is going to get to eat, Dowdy is pretty excited about his too – something I realized this morning after he proclaimed his good fortune with my gas running out and everything.
Today is sunny and mild, a big change from the last three days of rain. I had planned on washing this towel that was long overdue a good cleaning. It started to smell like road kill about a month ago and now…I wont even say anything. The point is that it was ready for a wash, but the rain kind of called for a bit of rescheduling. So, today I washed it and you don’t have to go around saying that this Peace Corps guy named Zeb is a dirty dude, because now it is clean and I am not dirty anymore. It’s not really my fault that it got smelly though. I live in a damp, mildewy basement that gets about as much sunlight as the deepest caves in the Cockpit Country. Everything feels damp down here even if you don’t expose it to water, so the idea of hanging something up to dry is pretty well out of the question.
