Sip of hot black coffee and the square of dark chocolate forest mint melting on the tongue reminds me, Wednesday was a lovely day -- speaking not for mankind, but for me [codgerly, I'm unapologetically a KJV and 1928 BCP man and if I want to say mankind instead of PC humankind, I'll damn well do it]. At any event, having gone to bed at eleven Tuesday night as an experiment to see how late I might sleep, up at seven, not bad.
So Wednesday: up, tomato sandwich for breakfast. Stop at the church for prayerbooks and reserved sacrament, say the rubrical words (BCP 408) to remind B&W that they were already consecrated and transubstantiated. To the home of parishioner friends by ten o’clock. Home after, stopping at Buddy Gandy’s for oysters. Kristen came over to frost and decorate the Italian Cream Cake, part of Thanksgiving dessert she and Linda baked Monday. 20-minute nap. For lunch about one p.m. we went down the street for three tiny pizzas at Enzo’s. Thin individual pizza with double anchovies for me, and a Killians Red, avoiding the 30A beer I was going to order until I saw it was listed and priced among “Imports.” Well, it is a long way to the Walton County line, isn’t it. Kris and Linda ate their pizzas, I have three pieces left over, in the refrigerator. Breakfast, perhaps.
Perfect afternoon because Kris was here. About four-thirty the almost daily sludgery sets in and with it Linda's almost daily caution "don't go to sleep, it's too late to nap," and then suggested I have a dark chocolate square to wake me up. Perfect: one square with ice water (too late for coffee). My chocolate consumption may double, having discovered it works as well late afternoon as early morning. Octogenarian's afternoon delight: chocolate instead of an Olds Cutlass, and nose into a book.
In the book I’m loving, A. N. Wilson's biography of C.S. Lewis, I’m up to the Inklings chapter and watching Lewis and Tolkien, whom Lewis called “Tollers”, manipulating for the devilment of it, election of the nice but borderline incompetent Magdalen college chaplain as Professor of Poetry at Oxford for the year 1938. Fox’s distinguishing work apparently was "Ole King Cole", but in his ignorance he slammed the foremost literary scholar of England who had been nominated, saying “they might as well elect me Professor of Poetry,” to which Lewis responded, “Well, we will” and proceeded to organize it.
Elsewhere, I’m enjoying an online lecture course on C.S. Lewis offered by Hillsdale College, and downloaded free online “The Abolition of Man” to read on my laptop. I mean, without a sermon to write every week there's time on my mind and the Olds Cutlass out in the garage won't start. Dead battery, I reckon.
Supper, eight braised oysters on thin wheat toast. For soup, poured together in a coffee mug four oz. pot liquor from the yellow squash for tomorrow’s squash casserole, three oz. oyster potliquor, one ounce milk and cream left over from the pumpkin pie chilled overnight out on the porch. Delicious.
Re: cooling holiday food, the 7th floor porch is safe from raccoons compared to the porches at the big house. Could be gulped by a pelican or carried away by an osprey, I suppose, but so far hasn't been. Today will be our first celebratory holiday in our downsized home, 13 room house to 3 room condo.
As well as the two of us, we’re expecting five loved ones from Tallahassee + five locals = 12. A four-legged turkey so there are enough drumsticks, Happy Thanksgiving to all, and to all a good night. I'm thankful for all these people and more. I'm thankful for Wednesday Nights at HNEC.
Last night returning to regular habit, to bed at eight, up at four with chocolate and cuppa.