Brother Sun
With DST it's dark late, the idea was to put daylight hours later in the day for, as I remember, more daylight time for families after work during WW2 when our whole nation, including Panama City and Bay County, was industrialized for war production. But then I'm certain of nothing, that's just my recollection sitting here on the bed with the shade half up as I sip coffee and watch Venus rise into the morning sky before being swallowed by sunlight even before the sun itself peeks over the horizon to see what's happening here in Walton County. The sun is nosy that way, far worse than the one StFrancis called Sister Moon.
New house closing today, Ray & Britany are expecting a cluster of friends over to move furniture in from the garage (they had permission to move some things into the garage early) and the rented storage space. They are friendly, warm and outgoing with lots of friends who help each other when needed, which reminds me of the horn Father Christmas gave Daughter of Eve, Susan that morning when they were in flight from the witch. He said, "Whenever you blow it, I think help will come," and indeed it did. They will be moving into the new house as of today; Linda, Malinda and I will move slowly over the next few days, giving them time to move in and get settled. But we'll go over later today to check out the celebration.
Else in the darkness. The daily fresh fruits and vegetables truck arrives from the direction of Bay County, turns onto 30A and then into Shades parking lot and round behind where someone is waiting at the service entrance. The truck is there five to seven minutes then pulls round, turns left and on down 30A for more stops on his daily rounds (trucks are "he" as ships are "she").
Early traffic increases from zilch to busy as I sit and sip, cars and trucks in the darkness both ways on US98, heading east and heading west, maybe about equal. I like the eighteen-wheelers flashing through, as a boy, one of my thoughts was the excitement of such a traveling job, with my own rig, in those days it was to be a Mack truck with sleeper cab, and I visualized up early, driving all day, always cross country, sleeping in the truck overnight, up early and on the road next morning. The need for a bathroom and shower, like all stories and all movies, was never part of the scene, just the thrill of me and the open road.
Some years ago, well it was 2011 wasn't it, I remembered this here once before, that his illness and dying was simultaneous with my mother's, a man died who had been my parishioner since 2000 in two different parishes. A native Michigander, he was raised but not born in the UP and we had cars and other interests in common, including Michigan, military, during the Cold War he was an Air Force officer with SAC and sometimes in the skies over the Soviet Union always with a suicide pill and orders to swallow it if downed, to avoid capture; he told me he had no intention whatsoever of obeying anyone's orders to commit suicide. Death came as the result of head injuries suffered in a fall onto the concrete floor in his garage. Anyway, his children and stepchildren came, and I learned that one child (they were all long grown and gone) and spouse were both long distance truck drivers, each with her/his own rig. It sounded like an interesting way to be married. The intrigue went further in that each one had long owned and driven Corvettes (one with stick shift as I recall) and each one also owned and rode a motorcycle. That family dynamics between the four step-siblings on each side turned quite tense during this period of his dying is not part of today's story, just the eighteen-wheelers, the Corvettes, and the Harleys. My parishioner and his wife and gathered family, whom I visited at least twice a day while he was in hospital, and whose funeral I officiated, and whose ashes I scattered from a USCG small craft just beyond the three-mile-limit off Panama City Beach on a beautiful late summer day, had in his courting days owned a 1935 Chevrolet Standard, when my parents owned a 1935 Chevrolet Master. The Master series had the new steel Turret Top, his Standard had the old traditional wood slat and canvas top roof insert that,
after a few years, let water in during rainstorms. On cold, rainy nights in the UP, the right front corner of his car roof let water drip in, such that his date had to squeeze over close to him.
We never had a car with leaky cloth roof insert, but I well remember the advantages of a front bench seat, especially our station wagon's slippery leather seat.
And ὁ ἀναγινώσκων νοείτω, let the reader understand.
T
New house closing today, Ray & Britany are expecting a cluster of friends over to move furniture in from the garage (they had permission to move some things into the garage early) and the rented storage space. They are friendly, warm and outgoing with lots of friends who help each other when needed, which reminds me of the horn Father Christmas gave Daughter of Eve, Susan that morning when they were in flight from the witch. He said, "Whenever you blow it, I think help will come," and indeed it did. They will be moving into the new house as of today; Linda, Malinda and I will move slowly over the next few days, giving them time to move in and get settled. But we'll go over later today to check out the celebration.
Else in the darkness. The daily fresh fruits and vegetables truck arrives from the direction of Bay County, turns onto 30A and then into Shades parking lot and round behind where someone is waiting at the service entrance. The truck is there five to seven minutes then pulls round, turns left and on down 30A for more stops on his daily rounds (trucks are "he" as ships are "she").
Early traffic increases from zilch to busy as I sit and sip, cars and trucks in the darkness both ways on US98, heading east and heading west, maybe about equal. I like the eighteen-wheelers flashing through, as a boy, one of my thoughts was the excitement of such a traveling job, with my own rig, in those days it was to be a Mack truck with sleeper cab, and I visualized up early, driving all day, always cross country, sleeping in the truck overnight, up early and on the road next morning. The need for a bathroom and shower, like all stories and all movies, was never part of the scene, just the thrill of me and the open road.
Some years ago, well it was 2011 wasn't it, I remembered this here once before, that his illness and dying was simultaneous with my mother's, a man died who had been my parishioner since 2000 in two different parishes. A native Michigander, he was raised but not born in the UP and we had cars and other interests in common, including Michigan, military, during the Cold War he was an Air Force officer with SAC and sometimes in the skies over the Soviet Union always with a suicide pill and orders to swallow it if downed, to avoid capture; he told me he had no intention whatsoever of obeying anyone's orders to commit suicide. Death came as the result of head injuries suffered in a fall onto the concrete floor in his garage. Anyway, his children and stepchildren came, and I learned that one child (they were all long grown and gone) and spouse were both long distance truck drivers, each with her/his own rig. It sounded like an interesting way to be married. The intrigue went further in that each one had long owned and driven Corvettes (one with stick shift as I recall) and each one also owned and rode a motorcycle. That family dynamics between the four step-siblings on each side turned quite tense during this period of his dying is not part of today's story, just the eighteen-wheelers, the Corvettes, and the Harleys. My parishioner and his wife and gathered family, whom I visited at least twice a day while he was in hospital, and whose funeral I officiated, and whose ashes I scattered from a USCG small craft just beyond the three-mile-limit off Panama City Beach on a beautiful late summer day, had in his courting days owned a 1935 Chevrolet Standard, when my parents owned a 1935 Chevrolet Master. The Master series had the new steel Turret Top, his Standard had the old traditional wood slat and canvas top roof insert that,
after a few years, let water in during rainstorms. On cold, rainy nights in the UP, the right front corner of his car roof let water drip in, such that his date had to squeeze over close to him.
We never had a car with leaky cloth roof insert, but I well remember the advantages of a front bench seat, especially our station wagon's slippery leather seat.
And ὁ ἀναγινώσκων νοείτω, let the reader understand.
T