Passing the time of day:

I just got out of bed after an enjoyable early morning listening to Karl Haas' posthumous program he had named: "Passing the time of day." I especially liked the "Afternoon of a Faun" and "Evening in Granada," both by Claude Debussy.

I had gotten up a few minutes before the start of the program to collect a haphazard or rather eclectic breakfast:
A handful of almonds, a sliver of liver, and a bottle of spring water. The liver and the faun went very well together.
I had a lifetime of faunal experience to ponder and digest, and the liver (hati) had all kinds of connotations and interesting tastes and fragrances.

I recalled my son in law had put it in our freezer last year. Only yesterday noon, after my record 33 laps in the pool representing my first half-mile, I had been so hungry and ravenous that only the liver would satisfy.
I went home, put the hard frozen lump of liver in a panfull of water and boiled it, all the time skimming of whatever was exuded. I added a shake of virgin vinegar, and later also a bit of Bangkok and Padang Peanut sauce and some lemon juice, then let it sit and marinade for a while. Nex, I dried it off and fried it with some bacon and spring onions and ate the first delivery or instalment before setting out to mow the hillside lawn.

At the end of the afternoon, I went to see the last of the series of Chinese films shown at MU, the one dealing with poaching of Tibetan deer (not quite as good as Tuesday evening's: "Postmen in the mountains." Back home, I asked my dear wife to warm up some more of the liver, and she delivered the second portion which was just as flavory as the first. I noted that she had still left one slice, say of 60 grams, which I then and there dedicated and preserved for the next morning.

Just before the end of Karl's program, I wondered whether to indulge in some faunal activities but decided to let sleeping dear lie, and got up to quickly write down my story before I'd forget it in the throes of passion. After all, fauns have to keep up with the time and know their limitations and responsibilities. Voracious appetites cannot be indulged on a whim.

BLO fecit 20051029 - stories - (background) FAUN