Learning To Eat Crawfish

Today I learned how to properly eat crawfish. Big, salty, spicy crawfish. It wasn't my first time for sure, but I've never been good at finessing out the plump meat. Standing shoulder to shoulder with my colleagues and friends, they showed me, holding my hands and being extraordinarily patient. There's a bit of an art to it, not touching your eyes and wiggling out the main course. I tend to apply too much pressure, overthinking, forceful.

But you can't force the prize out. It's more of an art form, pinching the tail, pulling back the shell. I peeled them back, one after the next, and the next.

Later in the day I had my veins pumped with radioactive dye, laying still on the table, tilting my head from side to side. Beforehand, the nurse talked with me about planting hydrangea. She was a master gardener, and told me about the way the flower turned from green to white to pink. She told me how you can cut off a branch of the hydrangea, lay it in the soil, and grow a brand new plant.