2002
Yesterday got away from me before I could get a round tuit. Even early, for once in a century I drifted off to sleep in the predawn darkness, got back in bed, pulled up the covers, slept until nine o'clock. Then up for a bowl of Tuesday night's supper spaghetti that I'd missed because we went to a party, errands, back exhausted, nap and up in no state of mind to write, so, sorry, Self, about my first day in eight years to miss blogging, but this refugee "life" seems to be changing me somehow, mentally &c.
Even eo, I've never written anything toxic in my life. Only Frank and Ernest, ho anaginoskown noeito.
Sitting here in the darkness, Life Is Good. Black coffee, which there's a low dresser by my chair. I don't open the shade because light from the intersection shines on Linda's face across the room; so I keep a square of white paper towel on the exact corner. In the black dark I can still see the white square to sit my coffee cup down on. And this morning, bought at World Market yesterday, Canadian maple cookie to nibble on. So life is very good indeed.
Even more very good this morning because instead of a blank mind, or, worse, worst, reading news before starting to write and getting caught in political outrageousness, I read good, better, best, an article in Hagerty magazine online that a friend shares with me.
Never owned one, but I rode in one once, it would have been 1978 after I retired from USN and started my business. In Cleveland, where I started driving from Harrisburg about every two weeks for a year or so developing a client, and my contact, Banks, had a 2002 coupe, I don't remember the color but it was original and all correct and at speed sat on the freeway curve like a pancake. The perfect two door but among my about sixty-five cars starting with a 1947 Buick with one fender skirt missing, I've never owned a BMW and would only lust after that model. Ownership would have been practical in Harrisburg, but not Apalachicola or Panama City, because I'm no mechanic.
At the moment, Walton County is as far geographically as I can get from Hurricane Michael, in this lovely, spacious resort condo. But I need to escape mentally, emotionally to let it go: Hagerty and memories of a BMW 2002 help immeasurably in clinging to sanity.
T
Even eo, I've never written anything toxic in my life. Only Frank and Ernest, ho anaginoskown noeito.
Sitting here in the darkness, Life Is Good. Black coffee, which there's a low dresser by my chair. I don't open the shade because light from the intersection shines on Linda's face across the room; so I keep a square of white paper towel on the exact corner. In the black dark I can still see the white square to sit my coffee cup down on. And this morning, bought at World Market yesterday, Canadian maple cookie to nibble on. So life is very good indeed.
Even more very good this morning because instead of a blank mind, or, worse, worst, reading news before starting to write and getting caught in political outrageousness, I read good, better, best, an article in Hagerty magazine online that a friend shares with me.
Never owned one, but I rode in one once, it would have been 1978 after I retired from USN and started my business. In Cleveland, where I started driving from Harrisburg about every two weeks for a year or so developing a client, and my contact, Banks, had a 2002 coupe, I don't remember the color but it was original and all correct and at speed sat on the freeway curve like a pancake. The perfect two door but among my about sixty-five cars starting with a 1947 Buick with one fender skirt missing, I've never owned a BMW and would only lust after that model. Ownership would have been practical in Harrisburg, but not Apalachicola or Panama City, because I'm no mechanic.
At the moment, Walton County is as far geographically as I can get from Hurricane Michael, in this lovely, spacious resort condo. But I need to escape mentally, emotionally to let it go: Hagerty and memories of a BMW 2002 help immeasurably in clinging to sanity.
T