sometimes ugly

What’s good? Going sleep at eight o’clock last night. Waking up this morning. Spoonful of tupelo honey on the tongue while waiting for coffee to brew. Early email the ham shipped UPS, to arrive tomorrow. 62° 84% Wind E10. Early morning comfort of blue velvet chair mama gave me. Lingering taste of tupelo honey with hot black coffee. Moon at morning.

What’s not good? Father Nature waking me at three o’clock when I meant to sleep till six. Knowing if I return to sleep without sacrificing to Father Nature, there’ll be ugly dreams. Back to bed unable to return to sleep because of right shoulder socket pain from having slept all night on that side. 

Only tupelo honey tastes like home, the Florida Panhandle, and the only place in the world it tastes even better is Apalachicola. Early memory of there: July 1984, standing in the rectory kitchen, looking out the window at the ugly old patched up garage apartment across the alley as I wait for my oysters on toast, and noting how different my new kitchen window view is from looking out on the Conodoguinet Creek: sometimes ugly is unimaginably beautiful.

Would I go back? As we go along in life, there are useful questions, and there are pointless questions. But I don’t know: it was a long time, and I worked hard. Can I get back to me on that? Don't call me, self, I'll call you.

DThos+ on Tuesday in Holy Week