Dear Diary Th 10/13/2022
Eight o'clock in the morning, Wednesday, 12 October we left 7H and Harbour Village on our first vakaschönische* adventure in years, after Tuesday's adventure watching and listening to the contractor engaged by our HOA to locate the source of the leak that's allowing water into 7H over the front window.
On the premise that everyone's a character of one sort or other, his rapid, high volume chatter was fascinating. Least, his lengthy testimony, once he realized I am a retired priest, about having been saved by the Holy Ghost years ago and Scripture guiding his life; most, his stories of growing up in Louisiana swamp country, shrimping in the Gulf, and, unlike here in Florida where the fried mullet is scrumptious, never eating Louisiana mullet, because its taste is mud, strongly muddy. He worked until six o'clock Tuesday evening, left heavies behind, so was to return and continue work in our absence.
Leaving 7H at 8:00, we were down the elevator, Linda's car loaded, and on the road at 8:06. East on US98 through Tyndall AFB; Mexico Beach, which has recovered and the construction industry prospered since H.Michael swept ashore and onward on 10 October 2018; Highland View, where the construction industry also is flourishing, who can imagine vacationing in Highland View, where for years the city limit sign announced you were entering Highland Veiw - - Port St Joe, and on to our first stop, Apalachicola.
Bookstore, where Dale has a delightful selection of books that are new since we moved from here twenty-four years ago, books with thoughts of Jimmie Nichols, Pearl Marshall and other old friends long dead. As well as Kermit Brown books, which was why we came.
Also while here, the soap shop selling goat milk soap. And also Apalachicola Bee Co offering a huge variety of honey, of which I bought two, and honey mead which I'd never tasted, but bought two kinds, one a Danish original, the other a lemon honey mead, both to enjoy with whoever comes for Christmas dinner this year. Both high alcohol content, had a taste of each and left the shop wobbling toward the car.
Linda drives on these travels.
In Apalachicola we usually have noon dinner before driving back home or on east, but there's no more mullet available in restaurants there than in Panama City, so we had our sights set further along.
Through East Point, Carrabelle, Lanark Village past the house where Bishop Rose used to live (while we lived in Apalachicola it wasn't surprising for Bishop Rose, a very dear man, to pop in to visit me in my office, which he called my "study"), St Theresa, Ochlockonee Bay, to Panacea. Posey's
where we had fried oysters and fried mullet. Each plate with four mullet sides, cheese grits, and coleslaw. Posey's seems not to have a chef, but an old-time short-order cook, as everything fried was heavily greasy, though tasty. Tagamet for supper.
Arrived safely at our destination, and have a delightful corner room with windows on two sides.
This morning Tass is to arrive from Tallahassee about eleven, and we are for a two o'clock ride in the jungle cruise boat. Rainy now, promises cloudy but clearing later.
Looking toward a most happy day with the beloved daughter of our middle-age.
Blessed be God, Father, + ...
T
* sometimes I make up my own words. this word means "vacation-ish" - - sort of like a vacation