Friday &c

Someone said, and I'm inclined to agree, that it's a sign of the End Times, heralding the End of Days, when all manner of apocalyptic events begin to unroll along with the stars falling and the sun and moon going dark and the beasts of the sea charging ashore and destroying a third of the earth.

Yes, it's mac'n, macaroni and cheese ice cream and the question is whether it's just an epiphany of what's now underway, or is itself the trigger that set the Apocalypse into motion, destruction of the Universe and Time itself as creation's little lights begin winking out, the firmament going dark.

Not to be distracted, but speaking of heaven, I smell bread: Linda is baking bread, two loaves of incomparably delicious gluten-free, its aroma floating across, filling 7H with temptation. My progress toward qualifying to keep my 9 August checkup appointment without being chastised is going well, and I don't need to be thinking of warm bread with pats of yellow butter.

Another full day, today and tomorrow, then Sunday with, I'm thinking, Mary Magdalene, and home for a martini and the world's longest nap. When you get to this age you'll realize that the most important part of life has become naps. Naps and a back-rub. This morning's emails included from Vacations-To-Go saying the cruise lines are finally reopening after covid, yet here I am in 7H watching boats cross the Bay, one pulling a red parasail, looking at Bay Point high-rises to the southwest of me, something moving in the Gulf of Mexico to my south, and feeling no need of a cruise, because 7H Bayside is the same as a cruise ship docked in port and my stateroom suite looking out at where I might dream of actually living, were I to be so blessed.

Have I confessed what brought me to this place in life? Spring 2007, just before we took family on a Disney Cruise to celebrate our fiftieth wedding anniversary, I officiated a wedding downstate, and the motel room that the wedding party had for us was fourth floor, on the water, from our balcony looking straight down into the harbor and out around a sea vista with pleasure boats and fishing boats, realizing and deciding that it was exactly my dream to live in such a place not for a weekend, but forevermore.

The last time I'd had such accommodation was spring 1979 in Sydney, in a condo looking out at Sydney Opera House, Sydney Harbour Bridge in the distance just beyond, and 'round the other way, a Royal Australian Navy installation where destroyers were docked. Directly in front of me, television news trucks broadcasting a sailing vessel casting off to sail around the world. Perfection in life. Found that rainy day in 2014 when Charlie brought us to HV to show us the condos that were listed for sale, and my soul settled into 718.

Busy day unfolding hour by hour, minute by minute, sec by sec.