no Christmas gift for Edmund

Christmas is coming. If Thanksgiving were coming I'd be thankful for Cleveland Clinic, but then I'm thankful for Cleveland Clinic all the same, anyway and always, all the Time. Their specialty is giving folks Time. Time: which I try always to remember to Capitalize because "at the end of the day" Time is all we really have: had, and have, and hope to have a bit more of, Time: everything else is decoration, what life does to you and for you, and what you do to and for yourself and others. As the preacher says, "My friends, life is short, and we haven't much Time to gladden the hearts of those who travel with us." When you get to my age you'll have a heightened appreciation of that Truth.

And of Time, 7H, our condo apartment here at Harbour Village in St Andrews, has for more than four years Time had a water leak that Hurricane Michael sprung on us (sprang?). Our HOA is conscientious in attending to it, working to identify the source of the leak, which turns out to be openings around the base of a pillar on the porch of the condo unit above our living room. Currently tests are being finished to confirm that, and we hope work to fix the leak will be scheduled for early 2023. At the moment the living room is a jumble yet one more Time again as all furniture &c is cleared away from the window so the HOA team can get to the leak spot. But at least and last there's now a way for Santa to get in to 7H: a hole cut in the ceiling, and a ladder.

Although I recall that in Narnia, as, having just arrived on his sleigh, after Father Christmas gave Peter, Susan, and Lucy gifts to help them in their upcoming battle with Evil, he promised Mrs Beaver a new sewing machine, assuring her, "Doors and locks are no obstacle to me." He told Mr Beaver that when he got home he would find his dam repaired. Not with them, there was no gift for Edmund, who, having eaten her food, was under the spell of the White Witch.

Instead of tripping over theology, I'm turning out to make this a diary entry, or a memoir chapter. I'm remembering the Christmas morning ages ago when the three of us came out into the living room and found Santa's hat lying on the hearth of the fireplace that was Santa's way of getting in and out of our house. Puzzled, we looked around at our parents and, to our believing horror, our father said, "I almost got him this Time" and may have added, "I'll get him next year." It was not a happy moment for us, as, I shouldn't tell this, I'm almost certain he brandished his pistol as he said it.

I then looked at Mama, who was giggling: she had quickly sewn the Santa hat the previous evening after we were in bed asleep.

How long ago was that, and how old was I? Maybe nine years old? Young enough to still be A Believer, as in "I believe - - help thou mine unbelief." Not sure: maybe I was nine years old? I'm trying to remember by the War Years, and our father may have been away at sea on Christmas 1943. Gina may have remembered that Christmas morning, but I think Walt may have been too young to remember, although if I was nine, it would have been Christmas 1944, Gina would have been six, and Walt five. A practical joke, but until that it was a big tease was cleared up, it was such a jolt that both might have remembered.

POD: take Kristen's car back to SafeLite for replacement of the cracked windshield (it turned out yesterday morning when I was there that they had the wrong windshield), then a quick stop by the church, then to Tyndall. My car is still in the shop at Cramer GM to have the seatbelt problem taken care of. My car is a 2006 year model and General Motors stopped offering the part, so they had to get a used part from a junk dealer, and instead of just the seatbelt, the whole right passenger seat arrived for their disassembly and cannibalization of the one part. Joe is getting the car at Christmas, and planning to drive it back to Louisville, so I'm trying to make sure all is in good order.

The storm passed during the wee hours while we were asleep, so we missed it, but a bit of water did leak in. I care, I could care less, or I could care more, but there's no need to get life in a jerk about a water leak when there is indeed so little Time.

Nomesane?