deeply wailing?
Crisp, 53° wind NNE 7 mph, cloudy in the eastern sky, the west is clear black velvet with stars and planets. At 4:53 am, gliding silently by me on the dark Bay, a small ship, doubtless one of the locals that works back and forth between here and Progreso.
My mug of coffee club hot & black is just right this morning, neither better nor worse for my having dipped my finger into it for coffee to clean my eyeglasses: hot coffee works quite well for that. Put my ears in as I walked by them in their overnight resting place, so I heard as the coffee finished making itself.
Across the room, the magic picture frame lights up with photos and video clips of beloveds. I turned it to face me so I can watch it from here in my chair at my little table in the living room. There's Lilly and her dog Ella, there's Charlotte with her trumpet, there's Ray, Brit and Lilly in the great northwest with tall, straight fir trees behind them. There's Kristen, smiling with a student. There's an old pic on the outside porch of their apartment at the Time, of Linda, and me sitting in a chair holding Lilly when she was a few months old. Each male in the family is different, but all my girls have a family resemblance: Malinda, Tass, Kristen, Caroline, Charlotte, Lillian.
There's Tass and Jeremy. There's Charlotte with the Lincoln band swaying back and forth in the bleachers at a football game. There's Lilly and Ella in the snow somewhere in Canada last summer. There's Pacey, Kristen's cat, eating a snack. There's Caroline with her mom. There's Ray again. There's Jeremy wearing a hat.
Oh. I say each male is different, but in our ancient age, Walt and I have been asked if we are twins. No, I'm 1935, he's 1939, we're nearly four years apart. Ray has one look, Joe has more Linda's side of the family, for whom he's named. Of Joe: at church a few years ago someone visiting with me looked across the room at Joe and exclaimed, "Is that your son? Oh my God! Is he single?"
Nourishment before the coffee was ready: reach into the refrigerator for one small boiled new potato. Lick one side to hold the lightest sprinkle of salt, and make two bites of it. One makes a decent snack once or twice a day.
"Boiled potatoes are naturally rich in vitamins and minerals, particularly potassium, phosphorus, B-complex vitamins and vitamin C. They are low in calories and fat, and their high fiber content helps you feel full."
Something said baking or microwave takes away fewer of the nutrients than boiling, so I may try that for one or two to see if it works without bursting the tiny potato.
Anyone who has read me knew there'd be something about food in here.
Speaking of which - - my scalloped oyster dish turned out nicely except for having less than half enough oysters. I thought I'd saved up enough, but not so. It needs at least a quart to three pints or four, and I didn't have them after all. I'll bake it again before Christmas after having made a raid on Tarpon Dock or Buddy Gandy's, or Sam's if they have the Chesapeake Bay oysters, they're all good. I have to be scarce with the dish though, because nobody eats it but me, and it's loaded with salt & pepper, a stick of butter, and a cup of heavy whipping cream.
+++++++++
Sunday we're singing two Charles Wesley hymns for Advent, both lifelong favorites, including "Lo! he comes, with clouds descending" which is both Paul's and Matthew's vision of the Second Coming of Christ. Three verses here:
Lo! He comes with clouds descending,
once for our salvation slain;
thousand thousand saints attending
swell the triumph of his train:
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
Christ the Lord returns to reign.
Every eye shall now behold him,
Robed in dreadful majesty;
Those who set at naught and sold him,
Pierced, and nailed him to the tree,
Deeply wailing, deeply wailing, deeply wailing,
Shall the true Messiah see
Yea, amen, let all adore thee,
High on thine eternal throne;
Savior, take the power and glory;
Claim the kingdom for thine own:
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
Thou shalt reign and thou alone.