One of my Chrysler cars is missing a wheel, no problem, probably happened during post-hurricane packing up, which was an enormous help to us. Several of my little cars were unwrapped to disclose pieces missing, but there are no problems in that facet of life. Problems involve living creatures, loved ones; but not inanimate objects.  Still ... I'm fond of my car models - - and of my linen handkerchiefs, each one of which has a name, and each one of which knows that if I lose him somewhere I'll be back to search for. One summer morning a few years ago I dropped a handkerchief somewhere on the Cove School HNES campus as Robert and I were walking across. Realizing it a few days later, I drove back over to look, and there he was, patiently lying on the soccer field, confidently waiting for me. I think that was Jimmy.  Linda doesn't seem to take me serious that every handkerchief has a name, especially when I left Henry on the table in Battin Hall after Sunday School, then left

  After yesterday's usual three o’clock opening of Sunday morning and eating dark chocolate with black coffee between services to keep awake, up earlier than hoped this Monday morning, and for the second time, the first being twelve:dark; so trying to remember whether I drank too much water with supper, otherwise, what caused this?  But no, I don’t think so, supper was four Chesapeake oysters with Louisiana hot sauce, the regular, which is not very hot, not the extra hot, which is still not as hot as Tabasco, my favorite. I can do any of it except Tabasco Scorpion Sauce.  These oysters were from Sam’s, quite good, more to my taste than the Pacific oysters they had for a Time. With oysters on the half-shell I don’t want anything but a fork and a quick shake of salt over the dozen on ice; otherwise, out of the container like this, bit of salt, because they are washed, never packed salty; one of my dozen bottles of hot sauce selection, and a couple of saltines, saltine crackers - - on

“Advent: “O come, O come, Immanuel." "The days are surely coming," says the Lord; therefore  we proclaim the Mystery of Faith: “Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.” “We remember his death, we proclaim his resurrection, we await his coming in glory”. “We celebrate his death and resurrection, as we await the day of his coming”. Luke’s gospel this morning is a vivid apocalyptic image of that Day of the Lord, the coming of the Son of Man. In First Thessalonians, Paul says the wrath of God is coming but believers are not to fear, for “the Lord himself - - with the archangel’s call and the sound of God’s trumpet - - will descend from heaven, and the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up in the clouds together with them to meet the Lord in the air." 
With colorful imagination, Paul conjures an anxious day in which a good time will be had by some, but not by all. Yet, though "things fall apart, and

IDK, is it the promise of another day, or is it what hurricanes do to docks, or it is a metaphor for what Time does to us in life or life does to us in Time? Or, here's from where I'm sitting up in bed sipping a mug of black as the fingers move; Saturday morning it is, of Thanksgiving Weekend, and plans for tomorrow. Some of us don't find out what surprise life and the end of our Time have for us, leaving those Left Behind to find out the surprise, maybe stunned, in shock. Whatever or Whenever. In fact, Advent is at hand with its theme of Whenever.  When? Whenever. Listen to the Collect for tomorrow: Almighty God, give us grace to cast away the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light, now in the time of this mortal life in which your Son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility; that in the last day, when he shall come again in his glorious majesty to judge both the living and the dead, we may rise to the life immortal; through him who lives and reigns with

No, it's not the BEST part of Thanksgiving, the best part is when all these people I love so much are here. A turkey sandwich is certainly an integral part of the festivity though. We had our Thanksgiving Day last Saturday and are finishing the leftovers, this morning my sandwich. Bits of turkey breast meat and shredded strips from that frequently discarded or tossed into the turkey soup two-parallel-bone midsection of the wing that has the dark meat. So, whole wheat bread, mayonnaise, and the turkey. A worthy repast. We had a great adventure Tuesday, Kristen drove, much appreciated. Because that new restaurant out by Scipio Creek Marina was closed for the week, we ate at our standby, The Station, then parked down at Riverfront Park and I stayed in the car and worked while Kris and Linda walked around town shopping.  Before leaving town we stopped in Apalachicola Chocolate Company for ice cream: their ice cream is good, a favorite is coconut, which they don't always have, so mi

Horoscope enthusiasts, folks into astrology (Greek, it obviously means stars, study of the stars, word about stars), have usually gotten me right, over the years so often so that sometimes I've wondered if maybe there’s more to it than I was willing to believe. But the article from this morning’s email Reader’s Digest online, “The Best Way to Celebrate the Holidays, According to Your Zodiac Sign”, assures me that when all is said and done, and the last firecracker has flashed and popped and drifted away in a waft of smoke, leaving nothing but the aroma of a match struck in the bathroom, astrology really is a load of skubalon after all.  Right, more Greek: look it up. Because they really missed me on this one. Virgo (August 23-September 22) Tour a distillery with friends Virgo is the essence of refinement, and it’s a sign with connections to wheat and grain. Tabourn explains that “‘refine’ is a huge Virgo word.” Tour a distillery with a group of friends, says Tabourn, “to see the p

  "What's on your mind?" asks Facebook when I log on. Time, time is on my mind. When I was somewhere, high school or college, I don't remember, something was the topic, I do not recall what, maybe it was essay lengths, the teacher quoted someone saying "if I'd had more time I'd have written a shorter letter". Even if I've not practiced it, more often running off at the pen (or the keyboard), it's a wise proverb, Less is More: last evening's sunset; there were hardly any clouds but I got a wide-scope, quite ordinary. But I cropped it down for less, to just the color and ithe skyline across the Bay, and it turned out more. When you get to this age you find that even though Time is not on your side, Time is on your mind more than when you were forty-one or seventeen. Seventeen is my favorite age, and now that I'm eighty-six I'm finding out that eighty-six really is just as old as I thought it was when I was seventeen. In fact, when I

  Because that's not my right, I'll not include a photograph, but I will note what's on my mind. Just a sense; it isn't organized or thought out, so I don't know how I might express it. And as it's my usual most pressed for Time part of the week, very early Sunday morning, I won't write long, nothing profound, couple of minutes and done.  It's about Hal, and that life is something that happens to us for a Time and then breaks our hearts. We realize that we are just creatures, but it's unbelievable  how casual and even careless Time can be with our feelings. As the ten-thirty crowd filed out of church last Sunday morning, a man wearing a facemask spoke to me. It was Hal, then Joan, also wearing a facemask. I was startled, hadn't seen them for ages and, not having been the one who served the Communion wafers, hadn't realized they were there. Hal, grandfather extraordinaire to the Thompsons. Hal Jensen, retired Presbyterian minister, retired mil

  Good morning, this typeface is called Gloria Hallelujah, and I find it distracting, so I'm changing to Source Sans Pro, which is less so, though before done I may change to my usual, which for years has been Helvetica. Don't know why, having a perfectly good one, I fool with changing these things. No matter. It may be Saturday at your house, but here in 7H it's Thanksgiving Day; before coming in my study/office/den to "work", I moved the turkey from the refrigerator to the roaster for Linda, there are, count them - - pumpkin pie, pecan pie, sticky pudding, bread pudding - - four desserts on the kitchen counter, whipped cream in the fridge, vanilla ice cream in the freezer, mashed creamed potatoes ready to be heated in an oven, a sweet potato casserole, green broccoli with homemade hollandaise sauce. Late morning we're expecting TJCC from Tallahassee for the day. Tass may bring a squash casserole. Kristen and Malinda are due here about noon. Chef Ray Kelly ma