Friday, May. 14, 2004 - 12:56 p.m.
Whoa – you mean the internet is still here even when I’m gone?
And I’m leaving tomorrow for a whole week, so again there will be no updates for a while. It’s the annual Beach Trip: L, A, J & S, and me all rent a little house down at Pawley’s Island. This will be my third year; they’ve all been going for fifteen.
We cook giant wonderful dinners every night, sit in big rocking chairs watching the sunset, swim in the big wet ocean, and drink steadily all day long. Also, we dangle chicken tied to string in the marsh.
The crabbing should go against my sensibilities, but it doesn’t. What other animal could be caught because it refuses to let go of food? There’s no trick involved, no hook, literal or otherwise: you put a piece of food in the water, the crab starts eating it, and you pull both food and crab out of the water and into your bucket.
Here is A’s story of why she doesn’t feel bad about crabbing:
She once was moving a bunch of crabs from one bucket to another. For this you use tongs. Each time Annie reached into the bucket, one big male crab would fight off the tongs with one claw while with the other he steadily shoveled pieces of a neighboring crab (alive) into his mouth. Fight, shovel, fight, chomp. Dead crabs make the best crab bait.
We have caught crabs having sex. Even hooked together, humping crabbily away, they do not stop eating.
And they taste so good.
I continue to be Hermit Girl, and I don’t know why. I am still summoning my powers to make some phone calls and write some letters. Sometimes I think this is just a convenient new way for me to feel guilty – there always has to be something. But I think it’s more like incubation. It is selfish, but I just feel a crippling inability to use the phone or sum up how things are on this end. Soon.