Sat Mar 7 4:26 PM. My blogposts and Facebook posts have always been public. As I said fairly recently, though, my blogposts are getting thousands of views daily in Singpore, and slightly less, a few thousand or hundreds, in China - - all of which makes me uneasy. Especially since the Time a dozen or so years ago when I received an anonymous threat from someone in the Middle East. So, I've decided to revert all fifteen years' worth, currently 5,132 posts, to DRAFT, which makes them inaccessible to anyone but me. Only the blogpost for the current day or so will be accessible. I'll continue to remove within a day or two each blogpost link that I post on Facebook. This management effort will be a nuisance, but I'll see if it cuts down on the foreign monitoring. If it doesn't I'll do something else.   At any event, I can't imagine that such a volume is legitimate, well-intended attention from overseas. For me, blogging is essentially my lazy person's private ...

  A week ago today, last Thursday was a peach of a day, having a guided tour of the new STREAM building at Holy Nativity Episcopal School! There are four spacious classrooms, two with windows facing east and two with windows facing west. The arched doors on the north and south side line up precisely with the south door and all the way down the hall to the north door. The building is a marvel.  More than twenty years ago I had a vision of expanding HNES to start a high school, and a two-story school building was designed for placement a bit west of where the new STREAM building is, actually between it and the pavilion that's on the Linda Avenue side of the property; but that project came to naught for any number of good reasons! The new STREAM building seems perfect for the school's direction and mission and we are delighted. T90 

It's two-thirty in the morning, what are you doing up? I'm being alive. Life is short, and we haven't much Time, and at ninety that's for sure, that's for dang sure, so I'm experiencing life.  I've already been outside on the porch to watch two people with bright lights, walking along the edge of the water, probably fishing, looking for flounder.  Sitting here now with my back to my window on the Bay, I've been checking the Iran War news. Oddly forgetting Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan, Americans think America can't lose a war, so I'm watching to see if it happens again this Time, if we leave a chaotic debacle of people hating us. "The end justifies the means" - - not so far in our recent history.  And, a father of beloved daughters, I'm sick at stomach and heart about our bombing an Iranian girls' elementary school and killing dozens, scores, more than a hundred children, little girls, peoples' daughters. I'm wondering ...

Fog, it's fog season again. Sandburg, right? Carl Sandburg. "The fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on."  He must have been thinking of Chicago fog, eh?, not ours. Our fog doesn't move on, it stays for the season it defines for itself about this Time every year. So, it's good, fog season, I like it. I'm not at sea, nor going up in the air Junior Birdmen, and trying to avoid driving in it.  Lost, I've lost my train of thought for this blogpost, haven't I. Yes, I have, it's rhetorical, so on my own I reckon a question mark is not essential. And not only has my thought evaporated, the large chunk of panettone I ate with my mug of hot & black has caused my bp to plummet, shutting my brain down, so back to bed for a short winter's nap this early morning 2025, on Christmas Day, on Christmas Day.  ... and may all your Christmases be white fog on Christmas Day in the morning. For lif...

O holy night: happy Christmas to all. Not getting out into anything that lasts until we have to drive home after dark, we are at home here in 7H watching online our parish church's Christmas Eve spectacular long titled "Holy Commotion" and living up to its name. They are all good, but in my memories, the absolute worst most pathetic have been the sweetest, dearest and best.  There was a Time, Christmas 1984 to Christmas 1997, when I was very sure that Christmas did not happen anywhere in the world but Trinity Episcopal Church, Apalachicola, the worship, liturgy, spirit, music, choir, musicians were that perfect. That feeling held on in me for many years after my October 1998 retirement. But watching and loving the little characters on show at my old home parish, Holy Nativity Episcopal Church, Panama City, stole my heart away. We have a beautifully decorated Christmas tree here at home and loved ones are coming tomorrow to open presents and for Christmas dinner, and it me...