40, 7, & H

This blogpost is brought to you by the numbers 40 and 7 and by the letter H.

It seems to have started again this morning, with three ships already entering port before eight o'clock; yesterday was the busiest day we've seen on StAndrews Bay since moving into 7H eight and a half years ago, more ships coming and going than we've ever witnessed. One, a peculiar ship with helicopter platform over her bow, arrived at 1:35 pm as we were having noon dinner here, the vessel schedule said she was coming in to load reel and would be leaving Saturday, but she finished her business and passed 7H again at 5:30 with the reel loaded at her stern.

I snapped her photo both Times, arriving and departing, but both turned out hazy, and I couldn't edit the haze out to clarify it, in fact fooling with it made it worse, sorry. IDK, maybe it's my phone camera? Surely it isn't the Canadian wildfires, but yesterday I couldn't get a decent photo because of a haze in the atmosphere off 7H. Peering though the binoculars, the haze was even worse. The craft is listed on the vessel schedule as Seven Arctic, 500x105, belonging to Sub Sea 7.

A mistake I made in posting 7's arrival on Facebook, was intending to post to my own FB page, only to realize that I'd posted it on the Holy Nativity Episcopal Church FB page. Ah well, moxnixmir, eh?

Yesterday, Kristen came for dinner, always a treat for us. We baked two kinds of salmon, a light pink Norwegian farmed salmon from, yes, Norway; and a bright orange/red wild caught sockeye salmon from the Gulf of Alaska. The sockeye a bit tastier, but both good, especially with mayonnaise and/or the tartar sauce we brought home from our Sunday dinner at Angelo's restaurant at the bridge over Ochlochonee Bay on US98 this side of Panacea. With everything on the menu that I, a native of the Northwest Florida Gulf Coast, could dream of, that has become our favorite seafood restaurant. Couple of Times a year maybe? We shall see.

Greek family founded and owned, in my teenage years on summer camp staff at Camp Weed, Angelo's restaurant was George's, and we staff members went there from Time to Time, usually Saturday afternoon/evening between camp sessions. In those days, camp sessions were a fortnight, not one week as now, with campers arriving Sunday afternoon and leaving Saturday morning two weeks later. So, the break between camp sessions was a welcome relaxing Time for us. My final summer 1953 there I was 17 and beer age was 18, so I refrained, and so did my buddies, but Van and Barnum and George and Charlie and Harry, and the others who, a few years older, were in college or seminary or newly ordained, had ice cold ones in green or brown bottles.

Our stop at Angelo's on Sunday of the Memorial Day Holiday concluded our magical weekend expedition to Wakulla County and Charlotte's high school graduation from Leon County's Lincoln High School in Tallahassee. I've not talked about it here, but it was extraordinary from start to finish. Again, that's as far as we are willing and able to drive, and the trip leaves us exhausted, but it's worth it to see loved ones. When you get to this age, you will better understand "My friends, life is short, and we haven't much Time"

Friday: FuroForty and a Haircut.

RSF&PTL