Flavigula

Here lies Martes Flavigula, eternally beneath the splintered earth.


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Mon, 04 Nov, 2013 12.34 UTC

I’m not a morning person. In fact, my mental capacities do not begin functioning at full capacity until circa eleven. Still, I conform.

Yesterday, we set thirty-four (?) traps over a course of many kliometers. The work was the most stenuous I have participated in for many a millenia. During the latter third of the process, my body was aching, I was having quite a hard time keeping up with Madis, and was overall rather miserable. And though my body still aches, I do not regret my decision to be a part of this.

Today, we shall check these traps for Mustelids, Genets, Rats, syphilitic toads, and like. The payoff of yesterday’s strain comes if a small, furry animal is waiting for release or testing.

I spend evenings with Madis and Asun. We talk about ecology. I throw out usually misunderstood sarcastic comments. I’m a fatalistic sort, as any reader knows. We consume wine and beer, but not in great quantity. Yesterday evening, a slight dinner of tomatoes topped with a soft cheese (I know not which kind) and anchoas accompanied by fried mushrooms (freshly picked in the wilderness) and garlic awaited me. It was delicious.

Now I shall prepare some sort of breafast for this hungry mustelid.

Five others arrive today. As usual, I am apprehensive. When in Estonia last year, it took days for me to even begin communicating with Grisha and Kaur. A portion of the reason was that I was in the middle of recovery days. A bigger portion was that I am an extreme introvert. First contact is difficult for me. It is if the other is a flame. I cannot get to close. I am afraid of pain - it is a hangover from my past - a hangover from rejection again and again. Surely Fort Stockton taught me a cruel and unnecessary lesson. For the remainder of the world is very unlike that cloistered community.

On the topic of workmates, I think of the email I received from Jeremy yesterday (was it yesterday?). He claimed he is getting used to California (Padeluma, in specific) and that the girls there are delightful to talk to. This was basically the extent of his message. A part of me wants to reply sarcastically, even bitterly. If the purpose of any place is to meet delightful women, wouldn’t any city with over 50 000 people work? Queue Still Life by VDGG. It is very nice to be around people whose idea of life is not centered around finding a mate. Of course, Madis already has a mate and two children, so the contrast is steep. It is telling, however, that he married a fellow Biologist. They share common interests and common work. Don’t get me wrong - I love Jeremy - but attempting to pick up random delightful girls in a bar seems a futility. Is a drinking establishment really a place to find a proper mate for oneself? Jeremy would surely argue that he’s only looking for a shag. Well, then, I could not argue. Perhaps a bar is the best place to find a floozy.

Stonecrop has increased Ryan’s salary to 60 000 USD / year because he claimed he needed resources to have a family. Right, Ryan. Right. I love that guy, as well, but he is either delusional or terribly naive.

Oh, and I am convinced that Doug is a psychopath. He lacks empathy. Self absorption is his key to the future. Fuck the little guy. You would not make a good conservation biologist, Doug.

Eggs and lentils squirm through my esophogas into digestion land. I contemplate my near future cleansing. I need more time to study. I need more time to work on the front end of this blog. Yesterday evening was the first time in (again) many millenia that I fell asleep within five minutes of tucking myself in.

Today will involve different adventures. I want a FOINA.

Along with martens, goulish goats and the rippling fen -
these writings 1993-2023 by Bob Murry Shelton are licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

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