Bashful, Doc, Dopey, Grumpy, Happy, Sleepy, and Sneezy.

 

Nice morning, very nice indeed, 60F, clear blue sky with not a cloud. The Bay is calm with no waves, only wrinkles caused by 6 mph NE wind. 

POD includes going for early voting. I'm not letting my heart, mouth, emotional wellbeing, or dancing fingers get into this nightmare political scene. However it turns out, I mean to live into it for the rest of my days, peaceably.

Tuesday. Not sure, but don't think I posted yesterday. If I did, it'll shortly be moved off Facebook to archive, and anyone who wants to read older posts must go to http://plusmoretime.blogspot.com where the last fourteen years of my nonsense is always there. 

Posters use their blogs in different ways: in general, my way has been to avoid any sense of posting a "series" from day to day, so nothing today is related to whatever I posted yesterday; to avoid stirring it up as a "forum", to post memories from my life especially years growing up in Panama City, but not much personal health stuff once I got through the heart episode from October 2010 through January 2011. But, ... 

Sleeping last night from 9 PM to 6 AM was unusual for me, but we're trying to clean out and neaten up. TJCC came for any furniture that might help Caroline with her new townhouse. We've taken a load of good clothing and other stuff including some interesting dishes &c to the Habitat store up the street. Things outside the front door and outside on 7H porch have been reduced to what we can bring inside in about ten minutes if weather becomes threatening. My room, my study office den, is a horrendous mess because yesterday I went through stuff and cleaned out a bit, finally quitting in exhaustion just after nine o'clock last night. I rediscovered things I'm attached to that have been in my various wallets and other keepsake places since my junior year at Florida, 1955-56, plus things my tiny children wrote for me sixty years ago. "Babby Joby from" reads one tiny scrap of paper, written before Joe (whom we first called "Jody" but he changed it to Joe when he was about ten and we moved from San Diego to Columbus summer 1971) had sorted out the difference between a "b" and a "d". A picture from a trip we took by train from home in Yokohama down to Kyoto in 1964. The long heart monitoring tape that I watched carefully for the physician in the delivery room that late night and early morning of March 12, 1972 - - for years it was in an envelope marked "Cathy's heartbeat" - - her name evolved also, from Cathy to Tassy as she was learning to talk and it stuck; also from her life, on a blue and yellow ribbon, a large, heavy metal medal proclaiming "SALUTATORIAN" that now hangs on the wall beside my chair. Various other bit of love that I rediscovered, paused to remember, then put back in the shoe box and tucked it away in a lower corner of the bookshelf behind my chair. Another generation can toss them, but I'll never!!

A long, restless night and waking at six o'clock wondering if anyone ever really felt Bright-Eyed and Bushy-Tailed on awakening of a morning. Maybe I did at some past Time. Maybe those wonderfully warm and muggy mornings USS Corry was in Guantanamo Bay for refresher training, and I went topside to enjoy the Cuban January 1959 after having left Norfolk in a January snowstorm. Maybe that morning when - - - never mind, it's NOYB. But no longer. Anymore, it's morning drowse while sipping my mug of hot & black and looking forward to my morning nap. At this extreme old age, a morning nap and an afternoon nap.

What's for breakfast? Coleslaw with Russian dressing. I chop it up fine because I don't like feeling like a cow with bits of leaves sticking out of my mouth, nomesane? Maybe I'll open a can of salmon, tuna, chicken, sardines, or anchovies to mix in.

So, that, a glass of tap water, heart pills, and one or more furosemide pills against the accumulation of liquid in my right foot, ankle, leg. When it spreads to the left side I know I've waited overly long to remember the furoforty/sixty/eighty. 

Morning walk? I need to get back into it, with my red convertible, having quit or at least paused since the morning I returned to 7H with both eyes full of dead gnat bodies that took a couple days to get them all washed out. Jiminy Jeepers. Bad word Time.

Remember the song, "Life gits teejuss, don't it" - - ? It may have been about the Time another song going round was "Remember Grammaw's Lye Soap," who knows that one besides me? "Let's remember grammaw's lye soap, good for every thing in the home," and a line, "And the secret was in the scrubbing, it wouldn't suds, and couldn't foam." 

That would have been about the Time in the 1940s that the telephone rang during breakfast, and it was WDLP calling for me, because I'd signed up, and I answered the name of the song they were playing at the moment, and won a record at - - where?, Robert will remember. Somebody's music store. Was it Phillips? Thompson's? What record did I select when I went in after school that day? I think it was "Grammaw's Lye Soap," and I know it was a 78 rpm disc. 

So, how am I this morning? Well, the latest trip to the dermatologist left me with a quarter-size deep red spot that's still sore and still hurts. So don't ask. Grumpy, a bit out of sorts, eh?

How would YOU feel if you were going to eat coleslaw for breakfast because anything else would put you to sleep? 

For all that, Life is Good, a gift, sacramental, eucharistic, and worth all the nonsense.

RSF&PTL

T89&c

pic: sunrise from 7H