remember
Early always: hot & black in my magic mug. Later, Wednesday breakfast: heart pills with ice water, then pickled herring with second mug of hot & black. To ward off ppht, no bread, crackers or other carbs.
Nap came on anyway, and carried me to half past twelve noon.
Early again: hot & black in my magic mug. Later then, about seven AM, Thursday breakfast: heart pills plus furoforty with ice water, then soft-scrambled cheese-eggs with ice water.
Hopefully, no nap today. POD includes one o'clock at Pruitt Health with M, then lunch/noon dinner/lunch somewhere with K. Last week, Chili's to try the ribs (excellent), today who knows then.
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Reading, on my computer screen, "How Green Was My Valley" by the Welshman. With that as my sole commitment, all day yesterday, how would you like to be so totally retired that you can afford to enjoy a full day early morning until nine o'clock PM with your nose in a book? I can speed-read, but this one is to read, stop and go back to read again and nod your head as you recognize feelings and events from your own long life. I can see why, if so, it would be assigned reading in high school English 4. But,
actually, away from the book for a couple hours Wednesday afternoon back to remembering and writing about my Cove School days. School days, school days, dear old golden rule days! Reading, and writing, and 'rithmetic, taught to the tune of a hickory stick. You ... "
It all comes together, Life deos, like a jigsaw puzzle. Only, some pieces don't quite fit, have to be whittled or forced, nomesane? If you don't know now, you will know soon enough.
Where am I in my Cove School story? Yesterday afternoon I backfilled first grade through fifth grade, including rambling through odd memories that crawled out of the woodwork. Like why I am right-handed. Like, I'm very sure my mother cried when she left me "alone" that first day of first grade; as my father said she cried all the way home a dozen years later, when they left me standing on the curb waving as they drove away from North Hall, the freshman "men's" dorm on the UF campus in Gainesville.
Letting go is not easy in life.
Which stirs memories, anguish, agony of my own as I drove away from the RMWC campus thirty-seven years later into my life. Life, which is Time, is all we have, which is why it's so important as to always be capitalized like a German noun. Time.
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Where for early afternoon dinner, then? Maybe to Enzo's for fried eggplant, or a small pizza with double anchovies and mayonnaise.
Life is Good.
RSF&PTL
T90
A song that'll distract and torment me all day today.
Telling me his life stories, Robert told me several Times of his memory of Pearl Harbor Day. That when he heard his parents exclaiming about the Japs attacking Pearl Harbor, he thought "harbor" meant St Andrews Bay, our harbor, and, terrified, he ran and crawled under his bed to hide. Four months in age behind Robert, I have no memory of Pearl Harbor Day, but clear memories of the years after.
Let's remember Pearl Harbor, as we go to meet the foe. Let's remember Pearl Harbor, as we did the Alamo. We will always remember how they died for liberty. Let's remember Pearl Harbor and go on to victory.
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See, Bubba's thrashing about in the deep end. Without his water wings - - remember those? No matter. No worries.