Monday, November 30, 2015

and November.

Orion the Hunter was up there when I looked thirty minutes ago, and Sirius, maybe hunting with them. Why, is Sirius a retriever? IDK. 3:44, too dark and early to see clouds, but they are there, because Venus is straight in front of me, now not, now there, now gone again. Below Venus, the line of lights that is downtown Panama City, behind them papermill smoke illuminated by surrounding lights.

In three hours the mill whistle will sound, at exactly seven o’clock, sometimes off a few seconds, two or three.  

Opposite direction, looking west beyond Magnolia Beach and Thomas Drive

Thirty days hath September, April, June and November, so tomorrow is December 1st, we’ve owned this condo a year then. Took a month casually to paint the main room, replace bedroom carpets, change the living room floor from carpet that had earned its rest to wood flooring (well, it looks like wood), replace the kitchen appliances, and the following month we moved in. We’re not finished: late fall into winter the sun moves south and, together with its glare off the Bay, heats the place substantially until the sun goes north again for spring and summer. We replaced the original sagging blinds with solar shades, which Joe put up for us last summer, now we need to add a curtain with rubber or reflective back, it gets that warm. 

At the moment four o’clock-oh-eight there are soft noises of the city waking up, loud reverberating bangs that may report dumpsters being changed, a car light or two moving along W. Beach Drive. You can have Grover's Corners, New Hampshire, this is My Town.

Speaking of which, on my computer desktop is my downloaded copy of Thornton Wilder’s Our Town from the Kansas City Public Library. It was first checked out in June 1966 and last thirty years later, May 1995. My all time favorite, which I first saw one evening on the stage of the old Bay High School. Packed, the auditorium, which doubled as Study Hall, was right in front of you as you walked in the front door and from the reception and office area into the front hall. The building was a square of four halls with classrooms on each side. Billy Something, as I recall, if I can find my Bay High annuals around here I may be able to find the Stage Manager’s name. He did beautifully, a splendid job that night. Older than me (I), I hope he had a good life too.

Venus: gone again. And morning has broken.


Remember, this blog and all posts are not to entertain you, amuse, move, inform, or disabuse you. It's all for me, my morning substitute for a diary, journal. It's nothing but musing, thoughts that go through my mind that I bother to jot down as mental exercise to keep away Χάρων, who's waiting in his boat the other side of that green light, to come for me.

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