... very good.
Brilliantly clear southern sky at 4:28 this morning, velvet black, covered with stars, some close and bright, others so far away they may have vanished eons ago in world Time. Clear and 57F 66% zero precip, looks to be a good morning for the walk.
7H is an interesting vantage point. Yesterday afternoon we watched three tugs from the Port cruise around heading east toward the shipyard or papermill. Hour or more later they appeared with a green ship inching round from the direction of DuPont bridge. Darkness had fallen by the time they passed by my Bay window and the porch, bright lights of three tugs maneuvering a ship not under its own power.
I tried a picture, no luck but the dark silhouette appeared to be another of the offshore support vessels constructed at Eastern Shipbuilding, this one without the helicopter pad over the bow ahead of the superstructure and bridge. How do they see to maneuver? Electronically, I reckon. If a drone over Afghanistan can be flown precisely and strike targets from someplace in the middle of North America, why not technology to con a ship.
I tried a picture, no luck but the dark silhouette appeared to be another of the offshore support vessels constructed at Eastern Shipbuilding, this one without the helicopter pad over the bow ahead of the superstructure and bridge. How do they see to maneuver? Electronically, I reckon. If a drone over Afghanistan can be flown precisely and strike targets from someplace in the middle of North America, why not technology to con a ship.
After the walk I’m coming home for a reasonable-sized breakfast-for-a-king of incomparably delicious Texas bbq sauce over spareribs left over from Saturday dinner. That was dinner at noon as it used to be.
Lately: steak, porkchop or bbq for breakfast, noon lunch too light to be dignified with the word dinner, glass of red wine about five o'clock somewhere in the western hemisphere, two tablespoons of yogurt for supper about six o’clock. Not to mention furosemide forty as needed. Melting off about five pounds last couple weeks and hoping it isn’t all water. Life Is Good.
That’s me at eighty, Samuel Adams spring ale in red cup, watching great-granddaughter Lillian Kelly toddle around at her first birthday gathering; in the background, my Kristen, 23.
And God saw every thing that he had made, and, behold, it was very good.
So with life itself.
As a ship glides by my porch this very moment ... tugs standing by. Thankful that life is not this grainy.
As a ship glides by my porch this very moment ... tugs standing by. Thankful that life is not this grainy.
Thos+