Saturday late muse

 

Our plan was to go next door to the Farmers' Market in Under the Oaks Park this morning, but it was sprinkling rain: plus, best we could tell looking over into the park from here in 7H, the booth we like (operated by the family from Marianna whose vegetables we trust) was not there. So we missed our trip to buy tomatoes and crookneck squash.

Other than that, Saturday was fine. Last night I slept from ten to six, eight hours. Woke up once, clock read 2:25 a.m., but I refused to get up, meaning that the rest of my night was fitful and unpleasant dreams; but to aitch ee double-el with it, I decline to be controlled by a particular, what? internal organ, I'll manage it from up here in my head, nomesane?

Coffee outside on 7H porch this morning, delightful. Once in a while, generally about two or three Times a year, my coffee has half&half instead of black, and I did that today just for the halibut. Was it better? No, but different, a change.

Decided my Saturday might as well be used doing something practical and helpful instead of relaxing reading or whatever it is I usually spend my Time on; so fooling around with the Book of Revelation, which Dr Dan's Sunday school class asked me to discuss with them sometime soon. Year C, the Sunday lectionary takes us through Revelation during the Easter season next spring, 2025, so I'm thinking maybe I'll offer to do Revelation late summer or as an Advent study so class members can feel familiar with the texts that are being read on those Sundays. Of course,

by then, I'll be eighty-nine years old, and planning ahead at this age can be as foolish as buying green bananas - - 

- - like Jesus parable of the rich man building more warehouses to store all his wealth: "thou fool! this night is thy soul required of thee," eh?

xapov, don't Come Ready Or Not, please, I'm not finished eating oysters and mullet.

Plus, for my birthday in September I'm thinking about ordering some lobster meat from a supplier in Maine from whom I've twice had really great results. 

And then there's Thanksgiving and Christmas, so Not Ready, Father Time.

Lobster - - I like my lobster two ways: cold with a little bowl of mayonnaise and hot with a little bowl of lemon butter. Just Bubba, fingers, and mouth.

+++++++++

This is Saturday late afternoon, could happen but not likely to do another blogpost Sunday morning as I used to do, especially as I'm working on a personal overhaul that includes rising after sunrise instead of way before dawn. To the best of my recollection, the predawn days started during my Navy years, maybe as far back as getting up early and going out on the foc'sle to take in the warm, humid morning when the destroyer was in Guantanamo Bay that January 1959. I was 23 and the ship had just left Norfolk into a driving snowstorm as we moved out into the Atlantic, and Cuba was my kind of Florida winter day warm - -

- - Happy Days. All my wardroom shipmates that I've been able to remember and track down online are long dead.

Or my first early rising may have been that first morning in Apalachicola, July 1984, as I've said here before, to the sound of roosters crowing all over town. These days, that sound is as gone as bob-whites, whip-poor-wills, and lightning bugs, fireflies.

I don't care what you say, Life is Good and worth the Time it takes!

RSF&PTL

T88&c

pic from a friend: 1955 Chevrolet BelAir two-door sedan - - why oh why oh why can't I go back, even just for a moment ...