Of course they clipped a nip out of my right ear, no problem: everybody’s got to make their car payment, right?, and thank the Lord for medical insurance. The instruction sheet says remove the “bandage” this morning, wash with … &c and they’ll call me next week with biopsy results.

It was a trip. Many things in life are worse than pain-deadener shots in the ear and blood dripping onto my shirt in the car on the way home. Anyway, it was to be expected, eh? - - anyone who’s never had pieces cut out of them didn’t grow up on the Florida Gulf Coast, nomesane?

Yesterday I logged into one of those Life Expectancy Calculators online, and it said I might add a quarter year to my life expectancy if I consume more calcium, such as dairy products. Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla always comes to mind but I’m having a glass of buttermilk instead. For buttermilk, I like that Hungarian Style Buttermilk because it's thick and full tasting and in Bulgaria they don't have to abide by a bunch of absurd sanitary rules.

The Life Expectancy Calculator said I also might add a quarter year to my life expectancy if I cut out coffee - - WTH, I only drink one mug (two cups) a day as it is, to ration my monthly coffee club gift out to make it last nearly all month, so no thank you very much.

Super nasty weather late yesterday afternoon: on Channel 13, Ross Whitley treated us to an exciting Get Into Your Shelter Immediately scare about a waterspout circulating ashore at the Beach and continuing ENE toward West Bay; our water incursion over the front window resumed its drip; evening plans were cancelled; I opened a bottle of Bordeaux and sipped a glass of red while continuing assembly of my handout for Confirmation Class this coming Sunday.

Also. Instead of happily writing next Sunday's sermon in a couple hours Sunday afternoons as I loved doing forty years ago, at this age it takes me a long Time to work one up, and besides, my perspective has shifted greatly, which adds to what I'm willing to say from the pulpit. So I'm already prepping for the last Sunday in April. If you've never written and delivered sermons, take my word, it's lots of fun, so much so that I think it's one brain exercise I may miss going forward. Desert, though, deep into the Wilderness, and when I come back into my 4th Life, I'm thinking to be someone else entirely. I've already confided this thought to a friend:

1. Boy 20 years

2. Navy officer 20 years

3. Episcopal priest 40+ years

4. 4th Life: ?

What then? Not a beach bum but maybe a park person, eh? PC has really nice parks, including Oaks by the Bay right next door. From 7H porch I look down at the boardwalk and beach; and under the trees and street lamps, a wide place with benches that I'm considering for My Laughing Place. Not only is the old MLP not mine any longer, H.Michael took out the cedar tree so it's not there at all anymore. This is the Sunshine State, every laughing place needs shade, nomesane?

POD: to the church office to print my Confirmation Class handouts. What else? IDK, there are still lots of oysters to slurp down before Jesus comes, nomesane?

"The sun was shining on the sea,

Shining with all his might:

He did his very best to make

The billows smooth and bright —

And this was odd, because it was

The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,

Because she thought the sun

Had got no business to be there

After the day was done —

"It's very rude of him," she said,

"To come and spoil the fun."

The sea was wet as wet could be,

The sands were dry as dry.

You could not see a cloud, because

No cloud was in the sky:

No birds were flying overhead —

There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter

Were walking close at hand;

They wept like anything to see

Such quantities of sand:

If this were only cleared away,'

They said, it would be grand!'

If seven maids with seven mops

Swept it for half a year,

Do you suppose,' the Walrus said,

That they could get it clear?'

I doubt it,' said the Carpenter,

And shed a bitter tear.

O Oysters, come and walk with us!'

The Walrus did beseech.

A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,

Along the briny beach:

We cannot do with more than four,

To give a hand to each.'

The eldest Oyster looked at him,

But never a word he said:

The eldest Oyster winked his eye,

And shook his heavy head —

Meaning to say he did not choose

To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,

All eager for the treat:

Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,

Their shoes were clean and neat —

And this was odd, because, you know,

They hadn't any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,

And yet another four;

And thick and fast they came at last,

And more, and more, and more —

All hopping through the frothy waves,

And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter

Walked on a mile or so,

And then they rested on a rock

Conveniently low:

And all the little Oysters stood

And waited in a row.

The time has come,' the Walrus said,

To talk of many things:

Of shoes — and ships — and sealing-wax —

Of cabbages — and kings —

And why the sea is boiling hot —

And whether pigs have wings.'

But wait a bit,' the Oysters cried,

Before we have our chat;

For some of us are out of breath,

And all of us are fat!'

No hurry!' said the Carpenter.

They thanked him much for that.

A loaf of bread,' the Walrus said,

Is what we chiefly need:

Pepper and vinegar besides

Are very good indeed —

Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,

We can begin to feed.'

But not on us!' the Oysters cried,

Turning a little blue.

After such kindness, that would be

A dismal thing to do!'

The night is fine,' the Walrus said.

Do you admire the view?

It was so kind of you to come!

And you are very nice!'

The Carpenter said nothing but

Cut us another slice:

I wish you were not quite so deaf —

I've had to ask you twice!'

It seems a shame,' the Walrus said,

To play them such a trick,

After we've brought them out so far,

And made them trot so quick!'

The Carpenter said nothing but

The butter's spread too thick!'

I weep for you,' the Walrus said:

I deeply sympathize.'

With sobs and tears he sorted out

Those of the largest size,

Holding his pocket-handkerchief

Before his streaming eyes.

O Oysters,' said the Carpenter,

You've had a pleasant run!

Shall we be trotting home again?'

But answer came there none —

And this was scarcely odd, because

They'd eaten every one."

The Walrus and the Carpenter

BY LEWIS CARROLL

RSF&PTL

T88&c