Monday about Sunday &c
The mind plays tricks doesn't it: I thought I'd written and published a blog post early this morning, but turns out not so. Maybe it's not the mind, maybe it's the huge "90" balloons floating in the far corner of the living room like the yellow light of a traffic signal, cautioning me that Time is all I've got, nomesane? Which is why I usually capitalize Time. Time is all you have too, but you're too young to put much thought into that yet. Yesterday at church was enormous fun that entirely overrode my lifelong reticence and reluctance to be cast in the center and talked about. As I said, now nobody needs to speak at my funeral. For the first Time ever, we were the last people to leave an event, and as we walked past the kitchen counter on our way to the car, I noticed that there was lots of fried fish leftover, so I filled a go-box. Fried fish for Sunday dinner, for Sunday supper, for Monday breakfast. Monday morning early I assembled the handou...