No, +Time is not a food blog

Did you notice, Old Father Tom is favoring his right side these days. Yep, the sciatica comes to visit every few years, usually about five to seven years between Times, always overstaying its welcome by several weeks. Sudden jabs of excruciatingly sharp disabling pain that threaten collapse and fall. Avoid falls at all costs of careful caution. Sciatica always challenges my imagination as to how much aspirin or Advil to risk swallowing to put it down for a few hours. 

Kristen is 31, my sharpest memory of a sciatica visitation would be some thirty years ago, I was in PC, had slept in my bedroom upstairs at the Old Place, was to rise early and go next door to get Kristen for the day, before Malinda left for work. The sciatica struck as I got out of bed, knocked me to the floor. I managed to crawl to the bathroom, pull myself up, reach into the medicine cabinet and pop eight aspirin with a cup of hot water to melt it fast, probably not my wisest self-medicating but it stopped the pain within about twenty minutes and I was on Time to enjoy a day with my tiny one.

My med for this visitation is some long white capsule-shaped pill that Linda buys at Sam's. She allows me one capsule at a Time, which means I may have to purchase my own supply the next Time we're in Sam's.

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Favorite outlooks from here at 7H, I already mentioned the early predawn blackness when, looking out across St Andrews Bay, over Shell Island and on beyond, there's lightning in clouds far out over the Gulf of Mexico. That won't likely come again until hot, muggy summer mornings; but this spring it's been going out to enjoy a sky black with clouds hanging so low that I can't see the tops of the high-rise buildings over on Thomas Drive, but their lights shining into the dark cloud and down, causing a reflection of light on the black waters of the Bay. Been like that several mornings lately, including today, Friday.

Friday: haircut day, appointment is about noon or noon-thirty. I was thinking to go early and stop by the Sam's parking lot, where The Prime Rib Man's food truck is scheduled to be for noon meal. However, Linda made cheese grits for breakfast this morning - - cheese grits, a duck egg fried over-medium, a strip of bacon; so the idea of being hungry again in a few hours is a real turn-off right now. 

+Time is not a food blog, but as long as I'm at it - - my favorite breakfast place for cheese grits is Big Mama's on the Bayou. My favorite the years that Robert and I went there after our early morning walks was cheese grits and four eggs over medium. Dump the eggs in on top of the cheese grits and go from there.

Which takes this blogpost to the next off-ramp - - Tuesday I guess it was, Linda had her semi-annual visit to her family physician, early, then we went to Golden Corral for breakfast. I've got a favorite there as well: four eggs over medium, one fried chicken drumstick (select deliberately to get the biggest one), and a huge helping of mushrooms with sausage gravy on top. Sometimes dessert of bread pudding with vanilla soft-serve ice cream, but this Time no dessert, as the sciatica was discouraging me from walking unnecessarily. Good, really good. The fried chicken makes it even more special, and my favorite piece is the drumstick. Hot & black of course, except that the service there is a bit off, we had to practically beg for a cup of coffee, used to be that they kept it hot. And, oh, tall glass of ice water.

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Coming down to the end, the paragraph above reminds me, a recent issue of The New Yorker (first read it online then the print issue) led us salivatingly through the offerings of an all you can eat buffet dinner at a restaurant in France - - every kind of thing imaginable including lobster, a wide selection of pate dishes, all kinds of beef, lamb, pork, OMG. Reservation only, and backed up for months, I think the article's author was able to get a reservation for, like 7:15 some evening this coming December. Was told it's unchangeable, can't change the number of dining guests, can't change the Time, and there may have been a Time allowance that you can be there. 

Where am I going with this? That in the letters to the editor a couple weeks later, someone wrote praising the article about the French buffet, and saying how much he loves eating at Golden Corral. I was astonished that someone who reads The New Yorker would let down his pretence of sophistication long enough to admit that he likes Golden Corral as much as I do. I hope they stay in business, but Linda and I were practically the only folks there Tuesday morning at about 9:30. 

We quit going at lunch Time because the last Time we went fried chicken livers were no longer on the menu. Can't beat a plate piled high with fried chicken livers and topped with dark brown meatloaf gravy; hot biscuits with butter. 

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Oldest Navy friend may drive over soon for lunch together. Been several years now. Anticipating his visit. Got to schedule it carefully so no unexpected conflicts. A male-only conversation of lifetime reminiscences. Maybe Hunt's Oyster Bar if there's no line waiting outside? My recollection: last Time, we drove over to Apalachicola, showed him Trinity Church, had lunch at The Station, and a visit to Cove School - - which tells me it was summerTime.

Later today: visit to Pruitt, this Time with my new red wheels, eh?

Meanwhile: morning nap Time.

RSF&PTL

T88&c

cartoon: from The New Yorker, aptly describes life at 7H.