All the materials were in place to write: notebook, pen, coffee, and water (off to the side). Suddenly 11 am and snack time. He sat down with a plate of cheese, crackers, and ham slices and water. He delivered a fifteen minute monologue on the different ways you can make ham roll sandwiches. I stared at him, then the page, out the window, then back at him. The story would have to wait unless it I wanted to write an ode to ham. “Are you writing about me,” he asked with a sly grin. “Yes.” “Yay.” Then he gave me a story idea about a hero’s journey starring the buffalo, cow, and pig.