lapsed
Sleepin’ in th’ shade …
1242 hours. Navy heading in so as not to be late to happy hour. BTDT.
On 7H porch, open MacBook. Screen’s too dark. In upper left corner, tap little black apple. Tap System Preferences. Tap Displays. On Built-in Display window, slide Brightness bar all the way out to the right.
Except for evidently having slept in a wrong position all the previous night and waking in immovably excruciating hip pain Monday mornin— first happened 1993 after my father died and I started coming over from Apalachicola to PC on Sunday evenings to look after my mother and take care of Kristen until Wednesday mornings every week, and the old bed must’ve been really bad for sleeping — and unable to walk, Monday turned out excellent for me. Late, light breakfast then off to visit with a friend from ten to four including drive over to Stinky’s way out on 30A for oysters. Perfect, and I had my “usual,” about a dozen fried oysters on a bowl of leaves, with their house dressing.
What kind of leaves IDK, all the leaves were whole which eating them turns me into a grazing goat or cow chewing a mouthful with ends of leaves sticking out both sides of mouth, left hand holding napkin to cover mouth while finger of right hand stuffs leaves into mouth. One oyster was easily three inches long, all the rest also nice size, in my own old days in the fish house, we would have called them “selects.” Forgot to snap and text the pic until several oysters were gone. Haven’t taken Linda to Stinky’s but one of these days.
Who wants to cut out, go. Who wants to nap, doze. Who wants to scan an octogenarial diary read on, NOYB, it’s uncle bubba letting the dancing fingers type whatever slips out. Asleep at 7:58 last night, up at 10:56, back to sleep, up again at 1:55, second time unable to return to sleep because of the gardenia pinched nerve, up to browse the web, four aspirin at 2:20, browse, doze. Four aspirin about ten. What I’m noticing about the ancient sailor who once was busy but now is lost, is that he’s no longer the driven workaholic daily accomplishing things, but has lapsed. The tugs, barges, pipes, cranes dredging just off 7H porch, I’m good watching and dozing. There was a day. There was a day, but goofed off all morning, this afternoon still finished being busy and rather like it this way. Sleepin’ in the noonday sun. Howyagonna getchur day’s work done? Never getchur day’s work done.
p.s. Suspended this blogpost yesterday because it was stupid, but Linda said not stupid, so here it is, read it anyone who will.
1242 hours. Navy heading in so as not to be late to happy hour. BTDT.
On 7H porch, open MacBook. Screen’s too dark. In upper left corner, tap little black apple. Tap System Preferences. Tap Displays. On Built-in Display window, slide Brightness bar all the way out to the right.
Except for evidently having slept in a wrong position all the previous night and waking in immovably excruciating hip pain Monday mornin— first happened 1993 after my father died and I started coming over from Apalachicola to PC on Sunday evenings to look after my mother and take care of Kristen until Wednesday mornings every week, and the old bed must’ve been really bad for sleeping — and unable to walk, Monday turned out excellent for me. Late, light breakfast then off to visit with a friend from ten to four including drive over to Stinky’s way out on 30A for oysters. Perfect, and I had my “usual,” about a dozen fried oysters on a bowl of leaves, with their house dressing.
What kind of leaves IDK, all the leaves were whole which eating them turns me into a grazing goat or cow chewing a mouthful with ends of leaves sticking out both sides of mouth, left hand holding napkin to cover mouth while finger of right hand stuffs leaves into mouth. One oyster was easily three inches long, all the rest also nice size, in my own old days in the fish house, we would have called them “selects.” Forgot to snap and text the pic until several oysters were gone. Haven’t taken Linda to Stinky’s but one of these days.
Who wants to cut out, go. Who wants to nap, doze. Who wants to scan an octogenarial diary read on, NOYB, it’s uncle bubba letting the dancing fingers type whatever slips out. Asleep at 7:58 last night, up at 10:56, back to sleep, up again at 1:55, second time unable to return to sleep because of the gardenia pinched nerve, up to browse the web, four aspirin at 2:20, browse, doze. Four aspirin about ten. What I’m noticing about the ancient sailor who once was busy but now is lost, is that he’s no longer the driven workaholic daily accomplishing things, but has lapsed. The tugs, barges, pipes, cranes dredging just off 7H porch, I’m good watching and dozing. There was a day. There was a day, but goofed off all morning, this afternoon still finished being busy and rather like it this way. Sleepin’ in the noonday sun. Howyagonna getchur day’s work done? Never getchur day’s work done.
p.s. Suspended this blogpost yesterday because it was stupid, but Linda said not stupid, so here it is, read it anyone who will.