What does a Frenchman have for breakfast? I'm not sure, I've never been to France and as far as I know I don't have a drop of French blood in me. But I do love French bread, and I like to imagine that a French breakfast might be a cup of hot & black and a baguette. And so, left over from supper with friends, that's what I'm having this morning. Smeared with garlic butter left over from basting the Thanksgiving turkey. Tasty: I'd post a picture except that I've already eaten it.  Robert and I have been friends more than 81 years, at least from 1942, when we went to each other's seventh birthday parties. We grew up on Massalina Bayou and went to Cove School together, class of 1949. Robert and I walked two mornings a week for years in our seventies and into our eighties, and during our walks we loved to reminisce about life - - Robert's stories always being much more fascinating than mine. Robert ran marathons for years, trained, conditioned himse

  Spur of the moment yesterday, to our favorite and, at this age and Time, only remaining driving destination and second-best place in life. A seasonal thing because +!!+ Linda likes to gift shop there and to buy her own clothes there +!!+ it's still day-trip possible for us though at this age not much longer and we both know full well and acknowledge that each Time may be the Last and if that's the case it's okay +!!+ Bubba likes to eat oysters there best of anywhere even though yesterday's oysters at The Station were from Alabama not from Apalachicola Bay. They were excellent. Two dozen raw half-shell, cold and salty. In life there are Places of the Heart, and Apalachicola is mine, one of mine, dating from the 1940s, 1950s, 1980s to the present!   Actually there is one other place I'd rather eat oysters and mullet: in Pensacola with my brother. But the drive is horrendous anymore, and the late afternoon drive through San Destin is deadly dangerous. But, no, and th

  45°F outside and going to 43° by sunrise in a few hours. To a NW Florida native, it's chilly, almost cold. Wind is 11 mph from the north, the other side of the condo building, the Beck Avenue side, and not felt at all on 7H porch at the moment. Here with hot & black and a treat, which is unusual, a little sliver of seed bread end slice, mayo, extra sharp cheddar, a strip of bacon left over from Sunday breakfast, and the other half of the cheese slice on top, quite tasty. I didn't eat bacon for years, until Linda started cooking it because Caroline & Charlotte liked it, and nowadays we have it sometimes as a Sunday breakfast treat.  Already been up half an hour: this early and earlier rising with advancing age, I really enjoy it. If at this age it hits you as it is hitting me, I hope you appreciate it as much as I do: life is short, and we haven't much Time, and I'll take all I can get, because for all our material greed and I-want-its, Time is all we have. The

  Up just before three o'clock, monster mug of hot & black, and on my way across country by Porsche Cayman. The car is a bit tight for me to squeeze down into, and with my CHF it's wheeze-inducing to climb up out of; besides, at this age anything can happen either to me or to the car,  so these roadtrips are best driven and most enjoyable sitting here in my bayside chair in cabin 7H while SS Harbour Village is moored pierside here at downtown St Andrews, Florida. This is my best cruise yet, St Andrews my favorite port of call, and this morning driving my best long distance roadtrip in a dream car. I've done these long roadtrips for years, both timed rallies and sheer speed racing, but also family trips, trips alone, and even new car road testing starting with Walt Woron in that brand new Chrysler New Yorker flat-head straight eight sedan back in 1950. Matter of fact, I still have that copy of Motor Trend stashed away in my car trunk in a front room here in 7H. If in his

  When I was growing up today would have been The Sunday next before Advent, anymore it's Christ the King Sunday dating from the Pope in 1925 designating the day to mark Christ as king in contrast with rising authoritarianism in Europe; and the Protestant churches that use the Lectionary following suit over Time.  So, Christ the King, but the Weather says a hundred percent chance of rain all morning, lending everyone who agonized over high stress Thanksgiving Weekend major football rivalries yesterday into the evening a reason to give it a miss and stay home this morning. In a heart-stopper Michigan pulled it off over Ohio State, but underdogs Auburn and Florida couldn't hold on to their slight fourth quarter leads. It was pretty clear that neither Saban nor Norvell were going to let that happen. Alabama in heart attack Time, and Florida just was lucky throughout the game and gave us an unexpected glimmer of hopeless hope, but it obviously just wasn't going to happen. We di

  Ancient age has interesting surprises: the early and earlier riser - - this morning I'm up at, like 12:51 or something, go out on 7H porch to watch a tug inch a long stretch of barges toward the hard right turn in front of Magnolia Beach, and head north for Hathaway Bridge and points west along the intracoastal waterway. Sacrifice to Father Nature, brew a cup of hot & black, take a TGvg cookie from a tin, and settle into my chair here at the window. Sip coffee as I look out across St Andrews Bay and the red flashing tower light near The Pass. Open my computer to confirm the pause is holding in the Gaza Israel War as hostages and prisoners are released, and move on quickly because why should I start my new day agonizing about something I can't stop. Open and read part of an article that says a European breakfast staple is taking over American breakfast tables: waffles, it's waffles. Pardon my language, but what a load of it. We had waffles as a breakfast treat all my g

  Happy Thanksgiving to all, and to all a good morning. Hot & black with two spanakopita triangles for breakfast is my tastiest TGvg wakeup in memory. My other TG wakeup memory is, in the house my parents built in 1937 and where the three of us grew up, coming conscious to the aroma of turkey roasting in the oven wafting upstairs to my bedside.  Remember memorable events in your life, and tuck them away: each one only happens once, and you'll enjoy it again and again for years to come. In my case this morning, eighty years later. Someone pilot will not have a happy TG wakeup this morning. I doubt he had a good night's sleep, but if he did, waking to the instant thought of the upcoming investigation into his landing the Navy's plane in salt water could ruin his appetite for the feast. If he was in the promotion zone and selected, I hope he's already put it on. The air controller too. Why oh why didn't I say abort, go round. But Alabama's senator probably has

  It was sixty years ago, a Saturday morning in Yokohama. We were at the dining room table. Malinda and Jody we re watching television, black & white, blaring TetsuJin, a weekly Saturday morning Japanese  kiddie cartoon. In the kitchen the telephone rang. Linda answered, listened a moment, and said to me, "Kennedy's dead." It was Bev Hatchett calling from across the cul-de-sac. I jumped up, ran halfway across the room toward the radio, irrationally stopped and ran back to turn off the television, then ran back to the radio, tuned to AFRATS, the Armed Forces Radio and Television Service, news from Dallas: President Kennedy had been assassinated, and Vice President Lyndon B Johnson was being sworn in as President as Jackie Kennedy stood beside him in shock, The world is full of nut fringe cases whose derangement changes the direction of history. We are where we are, victims of hatred, our fragile American democracy that seemed so impregnable, in critical danger of being

Yes, we have some extraordinary, brilliant sunsets here in 7H. Something: it's the clouds that make it possible, though, the sun doesn't get all the credit. IDK, maybe there's a sermon or a poem or a song waiting there, like a David waiting to be chipped out of a block of stone. But it's too early, 3:16 AM Tuesday morning before Thanksgiving Day, it's dark out there, and windy SE 10 mph, an uncomfortably cool stiff breeze blowing straight off of East Bay the other side of Tyndall Bridge, which I can see from here. Sun's not coming up for three more hours, and the weather icon on my computer says 90% chance of rain today.  And the same Something that doesn't love a wall, as Robert Frost says, that wants it down, cautions us that Hurricane Season ain't over 'til it's over,  and, smart as we think we are, humans will never have The Last Word. ++++++++ The same Something at work in December that didn't love our stodgy Advent somber and replaced s

Khaled Joudeh, 9, mourning over the body of his baby sister, Misk, last month in Deir al Balah, Gaza. Samar Abu Elouf for The New York Times Thousands of children have been killed in the enclave since the Israeli assault began, officials in Gaza say. The Israeli military says it takes “all feasible precautions” to avoid civilian deaths. Barefoot and weeping, Khaled Joudeh, 9, hurried toward the dozens of bodies wrapped in white burial shrouds, blankets and rugs outside the overcrowded morgue. “Where’s my mom?” he cried next to a photographer for The New York Times. “I want to see my mom.” “Where is Khalil?” he continued, barely audible between sobs as he asked for his 12-year-old brother. A morgue worker opened a white shroud, so Khaled could kiss his brother one final time. ++++++++++++++++++ There's nothing to be said or done. I wrote a commentary for this, but it was embarrassingly inadequate, because nothing could possibly be adequate, so I took it down. Khaled's predicamen

  It's so way long that few and none will read it, and like many preachers in the pulpit he passes many good stopping places, but Simon Sebag Montefiore's impassioned argument is the best yet discussion of the Israel - Palestine scenario. I am tempted to order one of his top books, especially "The World: A Family History of Humanity" except that I already have more than enough reading piling up around me to last the rest of my life. Montefiore is British, you can Google him if you want to. I copy and pasted this article from Twitter. It greatly broadens my understanding.  +++++++++ Photo: we have many superlative sunsets here at 7H. Last evening's was special for the gold linings. PCB Thomas Drive skyline. T88&c  IDEAS The Decolonization Narrative Is Dangerous and False It does not accurately describe either the foundation of Israel or the tragedy of the Palestinians. By  Simon Sebag Montefiore Irfan Khan / Los Angeles Times / Getty OCTOBER 27, 2023 SHARE &