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final Saturday in my birthday month

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There was a film, memory slips because all I recall is one scene - - an elderly woman is dying (seems like I wrote about this a week or two ago but IDK and IDC), in her house in a village in must have been Italy or Greece. Noise stirs her, she opens her eyes, raises her head and looks up to see her neighbors, elderly peasant women who are not dying yet, dashing into her house, grabbing things that she soon will leave behind, and running out with them. To me it was shockingly unfeeling, but it must have been a custom there.   AI knows everything: "The film you are thinking of is Zorba the Greek (1964). In this classic drama, there is a famous, bleakly memorable scene where the elderly French innkeeper, Madame Hortense (played by Lila Kedrova), is dying of pneumonia in her bed. As she draws her final breaths, the local village women—who have been waiting outside like vultures—swarm into her house. They frantically run in and out of her room, pulling down her curtains, looting her fu...
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Tuesday about &c

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  "What is life?" continues to eat at me this morning, Tuesday, September 22, 2026, 2:48 AM. The question is more basic at this hour and age, when I feel life centered here in 7H, and responsibility to a specific handful of people and no one else under the sun. If you wonder whether you are on the list, you certainly are, of course you are, how could you doubt it? Responsibility to continue looking after myself as best I can, that is; to take my meds, exercise a bit, mind my weight, get some rest, eat & drink mindfully, keep my leg elevated. Life Itself, though: now that I've surrendered all former responsibilities of life into the void, life is down to awareness: continue to take notice, respond when I DWP.  That's pretty much it. Respond or simply Abide, Be - - as in: I Am, kindly leave me alone see vou play.  ++++++ Last evening I was exhausted, lay down and turned out my light too early, so early as to be up first at eleven-something, back to bed fitfully wit...
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and counting

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A THOUGHT FOR TODAY: A time will come when a politician who has wilfully made war and promoted international dissension will be as sure of the dock and much surer of the noose than a private homicide. It is not reasonable that those who gamble with men's lives should not stake their own. -H.G. Wells, writer (21 Sep 1866-1946)  Breakfast: warm meatloaf sandwich with mayo and salt. Potassium actually, not salt. Properly thick slice of meatloaf.  Warm and contenting, a Southern comfort food. Few ounces of water and four pills: an antibiotic, furosemide, potassium, and a prescribed probiotic.  Another sip of water with three volunteer supplements and a heart pill.  Is my leg getting better? It's a sure thing!   And the home health nurse is coming late morning to change the dressing on my weeping edema wounds.  At the same Time, there's a meeting in the HOA room downstairs about changing from WOW! to Secure Vision. As I read it, SV offers a substantial technical...
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walking to Zion

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Even at the extreme old age of 91, a person needs to feel active and contributing, at least sufficient to pay for the air one breathes, nomesane?  Forty years ago, in another Time and place but not far down the coast, in my church was a peripheral parishioner, his parents were in church more often but he himself might be called a Holly & Egg Christian, with his own special way of speaking that involved injecting "nomesane?" at the end of every sentence. Not "nonesane?" every now and then, but to conclude every period single period sentence period with "nomesane?" full stop. Because he glanced at my face to make sure I'd understood him, I quickly  learned that my expected response was to affirm my following-along-ness, by either nodding my head or grunting "uh-huh" or "mm" in response each Time he came to, "nomesane?"  To this day, I can still hear his "nomesane?" as I let my mindset phase from irritation to a...
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earth and all stars

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The conspiracy theorist in me says they're doing it to us again, pollsters predicting a runaway flood of Blue on Election Day, predicting with two intentions: that Blue will relax and not bother going out to vote, and Red will panic and get out to vote in record numbers. It's all good, folks, by the Time the End of Days comes everyone will have forgotten 2026, maybe even by ten years from now. No generation is as vital as they think, certainly not mine, this too shall pass and the sooner the better, eh? +++++++++ Not posting pictures of my right foot, but this morning for the first Time in more years than I remember, my right foot is normal size, same as my left foot: normal ankle, normal foot; five individual toes instead of a solid pen of inseparable fat piggies went to market. It's the meds and all credit to my doctor. My home med prescriptions include one antibiotic pill three Times a day, one double-dose lasix (furosemide) pill once a day, one monster pill of potassi...
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Home: RSF&PTL

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Starting with an okay, I'll try to write - - it's call "dash off" - - a quick blogpost before heading to the bathroom for my first shower since last Saturday morning. Imagine: I haven't had a shower since back when I was ninety years old.  Problem this morning is that here in 7H the water pressure is minimal at the moment. Mind, the water pressure here at seventh level does not flow up here gravitationally as our water in the Apalachicola rectory did before a 1985 hurricane destroyed the water tower in Gorrie Square next to us: water is pumped up here electrically, so there's an issue this morning.  My first returning home treat yesterday morning was a magic mug of my Club hot & black. Another mug in this morning's early darkness when I like to get up. This morning a new record was set: my breakfast. Until this morning, my lifeTime all-best-ever breakfasts were the self-service buffet breakfasts on the top deck stern of the Disney Wonder on our two cru...
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it's true for us

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  This +Time blogpost has been sitting here published but not shared on Facebook because I'm tired of it, tired of my seeming obsession with the topic, tired of stirring up its dust, tired of ... , just plain tired. And being in hospital these days, waiting, wondering, being stuck in arms, hands and stomach, spending a night in Hell (which my first overnight here was), turning 91, watching my hand turn purple from the needles, a bed I can't get comfortable in, a huge pillow that doesn't suit my head, all nights half dozing and half participating in the lasix fluid reduction program, hasn't helped the mental exhaustion.  Too displaced and tired to enjoy being tired and lying down for a nap, which is a joy of life at 7H in my own bed.  At least I have the bed with the window. It looks south onto the hospital's enormous back parking lot, which is jam crowded now that the weekend is over. All night it shines brilliant lights, one blinding white and one dazzling yellow, ...
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