be sure to check out Joan's latest on her website:

be sure to check out Joan's latest on her website: (usually she updates her blog every Sunday evening but she can and will surprise you) **Special Note: all of Joan's archives are now up--almost ten years of 'bitter girl.' As Joan says, go wild!**

Thursday, July 29, 2010

The Tale of the Bug

Or, as they are usually known, Florida lobster. Yesterday when I went to the beach I had no idea that it was the beginning of the two-day mini-season. So there I was, walking along the beach, watching all these boats and divers in the water, when I saw one bug in the surf, trying to crawl back into the ocean. I grabbed him from behind on the tail and I placed him far enough up the beach that he couldn't reach the water. Not that he wasn't trying; he was kicking with his tail violently enough to give me pause about picking him up again there. Next came the problem-solving test--how to get him home. There's always trash on the beach, and the house immediately adjacent to where this was playing out did have a recycling receptacle by the high-water mark, but everything was either way too small or extremely big. So I began northward, to find something to carry the lobster in. Soon I found an old balloon along with some discarded men's boxer shorts, so I thought I was in business.
But when I returned to where I had left the bug, two problems presented themselves: first, a family that looked to be hunting lobsters themselves had moved up the beach in the interim and was dangerously close to where my bug was. Second, a Fish and Game Warden from the state of Florida had also shown up and had stopped by this family's boat to check their catch, to make sure none were either too small or egg-bearing females. Meanwhile my bug is baking in the hot morning sun in the sand. So I stand there and wait, trash on the beach in front of me as well as my flip-flops and my shirt, because I didn't want to attract any attention to what I was doing.
Finally the game warden took off in his boat and all the little kids who had been playing in the surf rejoined their older kin to see what the warden had said, so it was now or never. The lobster didn't put up much of a fight going into the balloon, so I was thinking maybe he was most of the way dead anyway; that would explain what he was doing on the beach, as in my seventeen years of walking along the surf I have never otherwise spied one of these coveted crawfish.
Anyway, I kept him hydrated with some sea water and I did find a more comfortable bag with handles to carry him in, so the rest was history. I had him over linguine with some of my special red sauce and some Italian cheeses and I can attest, he was delicious.
I also happened on one baby sea turtle up in Juno on my way home, and I did help him into the water as much as I could, but he didn't seem to take to swimming very well and the video I shot of him was rather disappointing, so I deleted it.

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