ding-ding. ding.

Treat self for sleeping well past five o’clock when the usual is anytime from 0130 on (I love that Navy talk though should have said three bells instead of oh-one-thirty hours): one coffee in an oversize mug given to us by Joe & Patty a Christmas years ago, tump in one package SwissMiss dark chocolate mix, stir, punch button for second coffee, stirring vigorously.

This is the first day of winter and, regardless of 60° 96% total pea soup fog, double cuppa hot cocoa in black coffee, not water or milk, rewards self for being such a good boy all year long - - electronically confirmed last night on both Caleb’s and Abram’s tablets: with my fingerprint, then heart-stopping suspense while app scrambles to ID me positively, and finally, swirlingly and circling, locates me on Santa’s nice list. 

Our as-new king size bed went to family beloveds and now I have this sofaische article of furniture, with my blue velvet chair from my mother, some art, a few photographs of belovedys, half of my model car collection (the other half is in boxes in the second bedroom in Malinda’s walkout basement where, together with an unknown population of large spiders, those model cars are now permanently out of my reach, I won’t even go in there to get family pictures, even pics of children, grandsons & granddaughters that were stored there three years ago until we got 7H organized. Malinda used the term “large house spiders” and I am not an arachnid person, so some things are as lost to me as the gold at Fort Knox, or are we simply a fiat standard and you should pardon that I wandered off the main trail into my 1955 Economics-101 class at UF), a cherished old architect’s lamp, my Mickey Mouse, Grover the Cleveland Bear, and Annie & Jennie, making this my own space. 

Today: scrap this scrappy Advent4B sermon type rubbish and start over; clear the room and my bathroom for Joe’s arrival tomorrow from W-S, NC. I don’t think Joe’ll be willing to sleep on this new fold-out, he’ll want one of the foam mattresses on top of it.

What to say to close this blogpost with some pretense of intellectualism -> ->  I’ll let Anu Garg do it, look him up. 

Today is winter solstice, Time for various celebrations most of them, like it or not, deriving from and futilely attempting to overwrite pagan Saturnalia. Humans involved, you can’t quash a party regardless what you call it.

A memory: Xpistos in X-mas 1947, my bubble light tree.

Late addn: Ikea Leban offshore, arriving today to load wood pellets for Studstrup, Denmark

DThos+ in +Time+