I'd turned on the overhead valve on the gravity shower a minute or so before. After too-long savoring the gentle spray, I knew full well that the gloriously warm water could only last a few more seconds.

Even though I'd rinsed all the soap from my rotund body, I waited until there was only a dribble or two from the showerhead and sighed. reluctantly, I twisted the handle to still the occasional drop and reached for the Ritz-like, fluffy towel... I'd bathed here five mornings in a row in anticipation of what I didn't have but a clue or two, but the steamy magic of the name, just the three words, "in the Selous", thrilled me as surely and entirely as my first solo in Daddy's convertible '53 Chevy. Every day was a holiday, and every meal was a feast. Dammit, I was in Africa.

Last night, after eland filets, baked potato, steamed, fresh asparagus with a lemon-cream sauce and far, far too much dusty red wine, I'd laid out my clothes for the next day: pants with zip-off legs that morphed into shorts, ironed grundies (amazingly still warm), a tee shirt, my belt with an ammo keeper attached, a Serengeti over-shirt from Cabelas and socks (ironed and still warm, too).

I pulled on my just-over-the-ankle boots and dressed, and with my ball cap (my P.H.'s logo thereupon) on my head, I looked around the tent and saw that my back pack was filled with extra ammo, bugdope/sun screen, a book, diaper Wipes, a liter of water with electrolyte mix therein, a flashlight and maybe enough other stuff to win liberty for the Sudan. (Heck, I wasn't going to tote it!) I made sure that my rifle was zipped tightly in its case and both the pack and gun were ready for a tracker of skinner to round them up and put them in the Land Cruiser.

Satisfied, I then unzipped the door to the tent and, in the light of softly glowing 12 volt bulbs, powered by batteries to avoid the bump-bump of the generator so early on such a perfect morning, I made my way to the dining area for a breakfast of eggs-over-easy, spicy sausage, fresh baked whole wheat toast and more anticipation of what may happen in the absolute wildness of Africa.

So far this is the only way I have to get into a safari camp. JudgeG, when your installment ends I get jolted back to East Texas. Please send me back.

Hog Killer

Hey Judge, make it about elephants, OK?

Sorry, but this one's about the bad case of piles that Ray had last year.

I hear that after Ray took his mineral oil in Dallas, his piles were the size of elephant piles. So, I guess that is OK.

Thanks Judge G...

I needed a "Selous tonic" to get my morning started.

Just 7 months and 4 days till I too will be dipping a rusk into a cup of camp coffee!

Bull1

This ruined my whole day!!! Once while on a bear hunt in upper Manitoba, I saw JudgeG buck-assed naked walk into a lake to bathe. I was hoping to block out this horrible memory, but to read of him in the shower brought it all crashing back. It wasn't a pretty sight. Woe is me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OK folks, does the abreviation *TMI* (as in TOO MUCH INFORMATION)mean anything to you all? Between descriptions of his honor's birthday suit and mr. Atkinson's bout with Piles, this is more than I can take! 1115, you poor wretched soul! how did you recover ? jorge

JudgeG,
You are torturing me. I am sitting here with an itchy trigger finger looking out the window at fresh snow & more coming down. It is a good thing my credit cards don't have enough room on them or I might get froggy.

Judge,

I do not care if Ray has the running trots, get on with your story.

Hog Killer

Is Ray still taking those Lariam suppositories?

JudgeG,

You did okay, it was a nice read while I was at "work" this morning!

Jorge,

My terror was short lived. Soon after JudgeG entered the water, the GreenPeace people came and took him away.

1115: Ouch! jorge

PS: you going to "AFrican night" on the 22nd? I'm bringing the wife. j

Jorge,

I will be there with Mrs 1115, and daughter. Look forward to meeting your better half.

See ya there. My better half IS definetly better!