Wednesday morning know nothing
Open-faced sandwich for breakfast: small can of red salmon mixed with a little mayo, spread on two slices extra thin bread, one topped with thick slice onion, other a bit of extra-sharp cheddar grated on top, a salmon melt but grated not melted. Large mug coffee with ice cubes. On 7H porch, 80°F 82% with clouds to the south of me, but Channel 13 weather has sunshine for today. This was billed as a "cold front," but I don't feel cold.
From my childhood I remember canned tuna more than canned salmon, sitting at the kitchen table watching mama make casserole or salad, and her picking out all the crunchy bones and giving them to me to eat. I loved the tuna or salmon casserole mama made, it may have had noodles and cheese. Those probably were days of the Depression.
From yesterday, Joe said he liked that, my first Lincoln, but I don't remember whether he ever drove it or used it for dates. I do remember being in WashDC with it. But for some reason I don't recall what I finally did with it, traded or sold or given away, IDK.
Reading online yesterday a couple of essays, one a blogpost, one a magazine article, about certainty v. wrestling with the faith, that brought to mind our baptismal prayer, "Heavenly Father, we thank you that by water and the Holy Spirit you have bestowed upon these your servants the forgiveness of sin, and have raised them to the new life of grace. Sustain them, O Lord, in your Holy Spirit. Give them an inquiring and discerning heart, the courage to will and to persevere, a spirit to know and to love you, and the gift of joy and wonder in all your works." I know nothing for absolute certain, especially elements of faith doctrine, which I'm given to wrestle with not be certain of, and I'm glad my denomination grants me the right to inquire and discern, otherwise I'd have been out of here decades ago.
Can't shake from my mind: two murders currently in the news. There are crimes so heinous and evil for which and whom the Constitution should be suspended.
Wednesday with nothing on calendar. Yea, though I walk ...
T
From my childhood I remember canned tuna more than canned salmon, sitting at the kitchen table watching mama make casserole or salad, and her picking out all the crunchy bones and giving them to me to eat. I loved the tuna or salmon casserole mama made, it may have had noodles and cheese. Those probably were days of the Depression.
From yesterday, Joe said he liked that, my first Lincoln, but I don't remember whether he ever drove it or used it for dates. I do remember being in WashDC with it. But for some reason I don't recall what I finally did with it, traded or sold or given away, IDK.
Reading online yesterday a couple of essays, one a blogpost, one a magazine article, about certainty v. wrestling with the faith, that brought to mind our baptismal prayer, "Heavenly Father, we thank you that by water and the Holy Spirit you have bestowed upon these your servants the forgiveness of sin, and have raised them to the new life of grace. Sustain them, O Lord, in your Holy Spirit. Give them an inquiring and discerning heart, the courage to will and to persevere, a spirit to know and to love you, and the gift of joy and wonder in all your works." I know nothing for absolute certain, especially elements of faith doctrine, which I'm given to wrestle with not be certain of, and I'm glad my denomination grants me the right to inquire and discern, otherwise I'd have been out of here decades ago.
Can't shake from my mind: two murders currently in the news. There are crimes so heinous and evil for which and whom the Constitution should be suspended.
Wednesday with nothing on calendar. Yea, though I walk ...
T