exile
What it is, a deep need to get my life back, and beginning anew with the Monday, its morning, out here at Breakfast Point because RBL are away on a week long Carnival cruise out of Miami and we are covering for them here with Malinda, all is still.
At their huge round dining table in the Great Room, looking out past the back fence into the pine trees, a few broken from HMichael, yellow sky of eastern morning beyond them and past that, what? West Bay out there but unseen from here. Cup of hot black, glass of icy water, slice of Good Seeds bread, butter, length a friend brought from Tallahassee, of Bradley's sausage I've otherwise only tasted in December. Brings Christmas back.
Pychologically, this reassignment back into Exile is putting Time and space between me and my birthday week such that maybe my life will reappear and I can get out of those other shoes, but that also were mine in the ghost of Time. Though with the sausage the celebration seems to continue, or resume; or Christmas return, or yet-to-come.
There was something I meant to blog about, what was it? Cross? Blood? Death?, I think maybe it was death that's on my mind, but maybe not, I'm not sure, I can't remember. If this were fifty years ago, in my Navy days, I'd go out and shop a new car for distraction. I liked being a Navy officer, but only in the first ship, UMich, War College, and the two tours of duty in WashDC. From Harry Potter, my time-turner is hanging around Grover's neck back home in 7H, and if I had it now I'd go back to, where? I think seventeen before it slips away even in memories. Or maybe forty.
Yesterday's class Sunday School did not go at all as I'd meant, we got way off my topic, which was to be, from the day's gospel (Holy Cross Day, John 12:31-36a) the accounts in all four gospels of Jesus foretelling his death on cross. Evangelists perceive and record in retrospect forty to maybe seventy years later. Us to accept piously two thousand years later, according omniscience, we're not that intrigued with synchronicity. Losing control, this SS class of minds of their own is uncontrollable as it is, I let our discussion wander off to various notions of the son of man, LXX υἱὸς ἀνθρώπου, Dan 7:13 כְּבַ֥ר אֱנָ֖שׁ and I'd not done adequate homework on it. Does in fact כְּבַ֥ר אֱנָ֖שׁ appear elsewhere in the OT or is the figure only, later, a Christian gospels idea? A class member is to report back to us on that next Sunday.
That still wasn't what, last week before the sky fell, what I'd been thinking to post: it's gone.
RSF&PTL
T
At their huge round dining table in the Great Room, looking out past the back fence into the pine trees, a few broken from HMichael, yellow sky of eastern morning beyond them and past that, what? West Bay out there but unseen from here. Cup of hot black, glass of icy water, slice of Good Seeds bread, butter, length a friend brought from Tallahassee, of Bradley's sausage I've otherwise only tasted in December. Brings Christmas back.
Pychologically, this reassignment back into Exile is putting Time and space between me and my birthday week such that maybe my life will reappear and I can get out of those other shoes, but that also were mine in the ghost of Time. Though with the sausage the celebration seems to continue, or resume; or Christmas return, or yet-to-come.
There was something I meant to blog about, what was it? Cross? Blood? Death?, I think maybe it was death that's on my mind, but maybe not, I'm not sure, I can't remember. If this were fifty years ago, in my Navy days, I'd go out and shop a new car for distraction. I liked being a Navy officer, but only in the first ship, UMich, War College, and the two tours of duty in WashDC. From Harry Potter, my time-turner is hanging around Grover's neck back home in 7H, and if I had it now I'd go back to, where? I think seventeen before it slips away even in memories. Or maybe forty.
Yesterday's class Sunday School did not go at all as I'd meant, we got way off my topic, which was to be, from the day's gospel (Holy Cross Day, John 12:31-36a) the accounts in all four gospels of Jesus foretelling his death on cross. Evangelists perceive and record in retrospect forty to maybe seventy years later. Us to accept piously two thousand years later, according omniscience, we're not that intrigued with synchronicity. Losing control, this SS class of minds of their own is uncontrollable as it is, I let our discussion wander off to various notions of the son of man, LXX υἱὸς ἀνθρώπου, Dan 7:13 כְּבַ֥ר אֱנָ֖שׁ and I'd not done adequate homework on it. Does in fact כְּבַ֥ר אֱנָ֖שׁ appear elsewhere in the OT or is the figure only, later, a Christian gospels idea? A class member is to report back to us on that next Sunday.
That still wasn't what, last week before the sky fell, what I'd been thinking to post: it's gone.
RSF&PTL
T