Saturday

 

Okay (for some reason, I'm violating my ongoing vow to myself, and promise to any readers out there, never to begin an essay - - blogposts are generally essays - - with the grossly overdone word Okay, or Well, or So - - none so stupidly overworked as the word Very or its idiot imbecile moron emphasis Very, Very, and you know you're facing a fool when you hear Very, Very, Very), as almost always there are several things in mind that I want if not need to say, blog about. Some important to me, others ... well, sheer rubbish. May be some of both here before Saturday morning vanishes into Noon and later.

That day when the kitchen stove exploded with its suicidal POW! in Linda's face (the explosion was an internal electronic board but deafeningly loud), we were at last down to a reason to get shed of yet one more Samsung appliance. 

Our Samsung kitchen appliances that we researched, shopped, and bought so confidently six and a half years ago before moving in to 7H proved to be exasperating obscenities, and I'll never again buy Samsung. Navy friend Norm asked whether, and yes it includes I'd never even permit a Samsung artificial heart to be implanted, no matter how good the deal. Unapologetically, Samsung NO, junkyard YES - -

- - that day, Linda said she did NOT want another induction range, just a  conventional flattop, so asking Tass about her new range, we bought a GE range, which we greatly apprefiate. And all of a sudden that morning, Linda blurted out that she wants a new refrigerator as well. So, okay, for long years I've wanted to buy her a ruby something, ring or earrings and she won't have, or a new Cadillac and she still won't have; so a refrigerator it is. 

Having years ago replaced the worthless Samsung refrigerator we bought along with the rest of our new kitchen in late 2014, we were three years into and okay but not 100% with either our LG fridge or the local appliance store where we acquired it, so we went to Lowe's and bought a Whirlpool refrigerator that had the features Linda wanted, and more. 

It's really neat. When I was a boy, my Gentry grandparents replaced their old 1930s-era GE monitor top refrigerator 

with a new (this was in the 1940s) GE smooth refrigerator, and their old monitor top GE traveled from Pensacola to Panama City and replaced, to our absolute wonder, it may even have had an ice tray I'm not sure, our ice box. So no more ice tongs or ice pick as regular utensils in our kitchen. 

This new Whirlpool is a wonder. With no dark corners, it has lights you wouldn't believe, and compartments where food items may be stored without being forever tucked away out of sight to go off green and moldy so that only I will eat them (yes, I trim and eat any moldy cheese).

The sky is white today, mostly cloudy.

Last evening our adventure of the approaching fall season. Charlotte plays trumpet in the Lincoln High School band, and the band came to the Mosley v Lincoln football game last night. We prayed for no rain and it was efficacious, dry as a bone all evening, perfect, reasonably cool, got to hug our girl after halftime, sat next to the Lincoln band as we have done at all high school football games this decade or so. I can't stand professional football, a bit cynical about CFB even though a Gator fan and a Blue fan because of being their graduates, and now a Seminole because Caroline's a sophomore at FSU; but lifelong a Bay High fan because of history (class of 1953) and Ray and Kristen, I love high school football, which has the feel of being a game among earnest kids, instead of big business. 

Yes, a white day outside. I slept late, after six o'clock, did some sermon prep for tomorrow (most of us don't rely on the Holy Spirit's spontaneity, you know; Mark 13:11 notwithstanding, a momentary lapse of faith can leave you hanging as wordlessly as an old time horsethief). What shall I say? Well something, because the rector is in Gainesville even as my fingers dance across the keys, and he declined when I invited him to say Go Gators. Why the Gators have to play Alabama this year, GOK. 

Finished Irving's "A Prayer for Owen Meany" this morning. In many, many ways, it hits pretty close to home, so if I can get it together I'll do a blog on it, which will not be a "book report", but my own experience of reading it. Irving is not as intensely detail-oriented as Helprin (Soldier) or Rushdie (Midnight), but he certainly wraps it up as if every waking moment of a child's life had been integral to a divine plan of salvation. Maybe I can put my thoughts together sometime soon, for another "essay". 

WashDC today: what a load of it.   

Now having forgotten all the other many things I'd intended to blog about, it's time to hit Beach Drive for crosstown to HNEC, to print some stuff and to pick up a bulletin for tomorrow morning. Then, as it's still my Birthday Week, MAYBE, a stop by Hunt's to pick up a late takeout dinner (noon, remember, this is the South), and back for a bit of fried grease and a glass of red.

TW+