Monday, thinking again

 

Our cellphones are set to shut down at nine o'clock at night, as the little crescent moon icon shows, and not come back on until the next morning, I think four o'clock; though an emergency override is set for three or four immediate family phones who might need or want to call. Those same family have key fobs to open the HV gate, and keys to our 7H front door.

 

Plus, my cell phone is set to ring only for Contacts, with any other phone that calls in directed to Voicemail. Lots of phone calls register, few ring, and almost none leave Voicemail. Of course, the standing joke is that my automobile warranty is about to expire, but I'm sure legitimate calls are missed, such as prescription meds folks calling, but they must be calling via recorded message, because they almost never leave Voicemail. 

Why am I writing this? It just comes to mind on a magnificently beautiful Monday morning, 69° 75% wind from the East at 12 mph. Over Shell Island into the Gulf of Mexico I can see the horizon, which in some abstract way symbolizes life itself at this point. 

Breakfast. If this were diary or journal I'd note that the CHF keeps me needing to drop extra pounds in addition to what already needs to be gone, so besides the FuroForty that I'll swallow after Staff Meeting, I'm attending that via minimal breakfast and supper. Breakfast is a package of Quakers instant oatmeal, original, not flavored. I like my oatmeal with salt and pepper and a pat of butter, but no salt and no butter, so just a twist or two of the pepper-mill, more for aroma than flavor. I really like oatmeal, but over the years it got lost to all the eccentric breakfasts I prefer: oysters on toast, soft-scrambled cheese-eggs, leftover fish, a meatloaf sandwich, eggs Benedict, four eggs over-medium and cheese grits, wild game sausage, seared outside raw inside chopped sirloin, anchovy sandwich, ... , so oatmeal these days. Normal noon dinner and try not to pig-out, then for supper thin soup with a glump of yogurt, or a leafy salad or a Nabisco breakfast nibble of some sort, or oat crackers. Water, enough water, usually barley tea; but more than enough liquid challenges the CHF and goes to the ankles and feet.

Whatever was I thinking, a wandering mind-dump of privacy through the fingers onto the computer screen. What I actually had in mind was that looking out 7H window across the Bay on a day like this, my mind always stirs with regrets that my sister can't enjoy it too. Or Mama, or Alfred.

Yesterday at HNEC was one of those superlative days, our high-energy bubbling bishop, full pews, and the children and young folks did all the stuff, readings, paten, a junior choir treat at the early service, acolytes. HNEC is the kingdom of God, you ought to come! 

Staff Meeting coming up at nine-thirty, via the pandemic's blessing of ZOOM, I need to find an image for this blogpost, then go change my shirt and comb my hair so it looks like I'm as bright as the day itself.

Life is Good, Every Day is a Beautiful Day, and I'm happy and glad to Be.

RSF&PTL

T