puritas et innocencia

 

We've lived here in 7H going on ten years, and one of innumerable things I've loved is the porch, facing south overlooking St Andrews Bay and Shell Island into the Gulf of Mexico, very early predawn mornings watching lightning in the clouds far out over the Gulf. Usually silent, though distant rumble of thunder if they are near enough, and sometimes their storm moves in close and over us. But best is watching as the cloud formation slides on off to my left, eastward, as most of our weather does here. 

That came to mind early this morning when I went out on 7H porch to a heavy overcast of dark, ominous, low-lying total cloud. The sky has cleared up, though, and promises to be fair and beautiful for this evening's event honoring our rector's upcoming retirement. 

In a barn, it's to be square-dancing, so I'll wear my Levis and red shirt. Would wear brown belt and brown penny-loafers, but CHF has seen to it that my feet no longer slip into the shoes, so shoes that stretch wide and close with the flap. 

Mister Bubba no longer square-dances unless there's an ambulance waiting outside. The memory is dim, but I used to love square-dancing as huge fun in our Cove School days, maybe Robert remembers. I remember a couple of my square-dancing partners, Georgia Ann Cruce, and Elaine Jones. Who was the caller? Don't remember, maybe Wade Swicord? I remember Wade, whose father was an LCMS pastor, as one of many really good guys in our Cove School class of 1949; and his father used to come talk to the class now and then. The family had three sons: Donald, who was older; Wade, in our class and who came to at least one of our class reunions; and their younger brother Mays, who was in either Gina's or Walt's class. 

Wandering again, where was I going? Oh: square-dancing. To satisfy a phys-ed requirement at UnivFlorida in the 1950s, I took the intro square-dancing course, expecting it to be fun; but all the calling was over the speaker of a 78 rpm record from a caller whose chanting was so fast and accent so Appalachian that I never could understand him and kept messing up. The professor always got impatient with me, jerked me out of the circle and took my place himself. I got a D grade for the course (which did not go into my GPA) and my enthusiasm for square-dancing went to low tide!

Ideal breakfast: magic mug of hot & black with my new Club Coffee that arrived yesterday; three whole wheat saltines, one with chopped liver, one with chicken salad, one with pimiento cheese. 

A couple weeks ago I ordered crab cakes from Jimmy's Seafood in Maryland (we've had them before and they were absolutely outstanding), and scheduled them for arrival Wednesday, which was spot on mid-afternoon during my nap. Nice, 8 ounces each, a bit pricey but offered on two-fer, they're for Sunday dinner, April 28 after church, when we're expecting Tass, Jeremy, Kristen. However, we're having one each today for late morning brunch to double check cooking skills.

Also, Walt and family may come over from Pensacola on that Saturday, and we're hoping to meet them at Hunt's for an oyster feast. My sister is dead, I no longer can ring, text, or email her with a family question. And now I've not seen my brother in way, way too long, a missing that becomes painful at this age.

POD for Friday, 19 Apr 2024: thoughts and prep of short handout for final, session 2 of Sunday morning's confirmation class. 

Pic from pb/mpd: innocence & purity.

RSF&PTL

T88&c