a Wednesday in December

Smoky out, is someone burning, or is this from the renewed wildfires out west in Pacific Coast states? Temp early was 37°F felt like 32, now it's 63°F and nice.

There are some things I'd like to ask my mother, and other things my father.



An age-specific experience is that I can no longer ask the older generation their memories, because most anyone older than me is dead, and those who aren't cannot remember. Ten years ago when I was only 75, I asked mama about various memories, and glad I did. Wish I'd made a list and asked my father, but his July 1993 death came sudden and unexpected, when it'd never occurred to me that the clock was running on Time for conversation. Dying three years younger than I am this morning, he enjoyed sharing memories, and I hearing them.


One memory field was about Bay Fisheries that, from the nineteen-teens, was where Landmark Condominiums' boat marina is now. Map shows the pilings still there more than a hundred years later. Also the old jetty that was there, looks just slightly under the surface now: we used to love swimming off it as youngsters, stand-up shallow on the west side, jump or diving deep on the east side. Bay Fisheries had a rail spur out to it in my grandfather's day and when my father was a boy.

All part of my ongoing Davis Point associations.

Stopped by the church office this morning. On the way home my car surprised me by, after crossing Tarpon Dock Bridge, swinging into Tarpon Dock Seafood, it does that, even against my determination, one who is mightier than I seizes control. Finding myself there anyway, I thought to go inside and scan their iced-down showcase. Oysters, yes. And OMG, mullet. haven't had mullet since last March, so bought four nice ones. Scaled, split bone-in and laid flat, two are ready to be cooked for dinner. Lazy bones, sleeping in the sun, how you gonna get your day's work done, sleeping in the noonday sun. 

My new eyeglasses are ready at the Tyndall AFB Exchange, so we're driving out there to get them after dinner, otherwise I'd open a bottle of chardonnay or pinot grigio to celebrate the mullet. Not fried, I'll bake them in the oven, 350° for just under thirty minutes. Lovely.

In the news, Viking Star:


 High tension. This post is brought to you by the number 42.