Completely Knocked Down

Gardenia-est thing I ever heard of, must think they’re running an alphabet kindergarten: list of things to bring onboard the Carnival ship. We’re driving down Saturday, sailing from Port Canaveral on Sunday afternoon, Ray & Britany’s destination wedding cruise. Carnival’s online list of things to pack says if you’re bringing medicine you must bring either the original prescription bottle or a copy of the prescription, I reckon they don’t want octogenarians slipping dope onboard to get high and jump overboard or something. Dope: is that the word anymore? IDK. Evening handful has seven or eight pills in it. Gag.

And the weather this morning: freezing outside, 50°F says the weather channel and, worse, “feels like 49”, and all because I complained about the long hot summer, so I complained and this is my payback. Yep, I had it coming but everybody else has to suffer with me. down to 50F already and likely this is only the beginning. Next summer I’m keeping my mouth shut.

Ship last evening, departing, one of the larger ones, Seaboard Valparaiso 525x91 making for Houston with general cargo. Missed her as she passed close by 7H but caught her clearing Davis Point. Also a smaller ship coming and going, weekly PC-Progreso transits. 

Happiness this morning: TJCC arriving. When the girls were little they loved, and I loved it, their running around and around the huge house shrieking and laughing. That’s what that house was built for, happy children. For a few months late 1917 five Weller children lived there. Four after January 8, 1918. Finally, because Evalyn was off at college in Tallahassee, three in 1923 when Mom and Pop sold the house and, chicken cages strapped to the running boards, spirited off to Ocilla, Georgia in two touring cars, Ruth and my 11-year-old father driving the Model T Ford, Pop driving the Hudson with Mom and Marguerite. Pop was the Ford dealer in Ocilla and my father had stories of the several years there, going down to the train depot where the CKD cars, various Model T Fords, arrived in box-cars, my father and another boy assembling them and driving them couple blocks to the Ford garage. So far the upshot of it all is that here I am in 7H watching ships pass my green flashing channel marker light, clear Davis Point and remembering; another instance of memories and fantasies gone indistinguishably wild. 

Spend my life worrying about family members here, daughters. If only I’d bought that Seattle townhouse a generation ago when their economy tanked and the saying was, “Last one out of Seattle turn off the lights.” Besides StAndrews, my three favorite cities: SFran, Seattle, Sydney. Closest I’m to Seattle anymore though is eating these Willamette oysters. They’re packed labeled “Extra Small” which means three monsters to a pint but they’re half the price of local. Extra Small: I wonder what a large one is like.

Wednesday Thanksgiving Eve, one of those mornings where I have to give up rushing out and snapping pics as the sunrise grows gray, golden, pink. Damn sky won’t let go of me.

DThos+ muttering along