back to bed
On Father Nature's account, up too early then back to bed but tossing and turning (is the term) fitfully as Worries of Life bounce around mindlessly out of control, so up again, brew one mug of coffee and to the chair. First time up so early in several weeks, as I'd been training body and mind to ignore Father Nature and go instantly back to sleep, blocking the Worries by practiced shifting thought to autumn 1957 Saturday mornings riding the Jamestown Ferry from Newport to Jamestown and my Liberty (another term, once commissioned ensign it would become Shore Leave) until five o'clock Sunday evening, a Time of happiness for me as a new husband; but shifting thought didn't work in today's wee hours, so up again to here and now.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and what might life have been had I taken the other instead of the one less traveled by then or at any Time before or since along the way? That also can keep one awake and turning in the wee hours of life.
Outside, rain is falling, supposed to continue today, and I even thought I heard a distant rumble of thunder from Destin and west. We need to check a couple things about our slowly recovering 7H, but if not today, then perhaps Saturday or another day. It might be well to get done sooner rather than later (another goofy term) because when the prospect is later, the road starts to diverge again and my thoughts go to taking the other this Time and answer Frost's question for myself. Life is too short to let it go off routine even when set in one's ways (yet another term), and I've done a lot of this but not so much of that.
On Youtube, just watched BBC's "The Lion ..." again after some years, next perhaps "Prince Caspian" or maybe slip "A man called Ove" back into the disk drive. I wonder if "All the light we cannot see" is available on DVD? In some ways hurrication has been like my two-month sabbatical as 2017 broke: reading and viewing and exploring life changed, not ended, in an age gone mad of its own doing.
In the chilled room the mug is cold and so the last two sips of coffee: I'll drink them anyway, then maybe try back to bed again as I wait for the ferry to dock and then head back into my happiness.
T
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and what might life have been had I taken the other instead of the one less traveled by then or at any Time before or since along the way? That also can keep one awake and turning in the wee hours of life.
Outside, rain is falling, supposed to continue today, and I even thought I heard a distant rumble of thunder from Destin and west. We need to check a couple things about our slowly recovering 7H, but if not today, then perhaps Saturday or another day. It might be well to get done sooner rather than later (another goofy term) because when the prospect is later, the road starts to diverge again and my thoughts go to taking the other this Time and answer Frost's question for myself. Life is too short to let it go off routine even when set in one's ways (yet another term), and I've done a lot of this but not so much of that.
On Youtube, just watched BBC's "The Lion ..." again after some years, next perhaps "Prince Caspian" or maybe slip "A man called Ove" back into the disk drive. I wonder if "All the light we cannot see" is available on DVD? In some ways hurrication has been like my two-month sabbatical as 2017 broke: reading and viewing and exploring life changed, not ended, in an age gone mad of its own doing.
In the chilled room the mug is cold and so the last two sips of coffee: I'll drink them anyway, then maybe try back to bed again as I wait for the ferry to dock and then head back into my happiness.
T