Old Father Time

 

Ten-thirty church and now back home digging into my snack, a jar of Vita brand herring in sour cream, with a sip per bite of martini on the rocks: splash of dry vermouth, splash of olive juice from the olive jar to make it dirty, two giant green olives, an unmeasured and generous pour of Boodles gin. Stir stir stir because it's in a drinking glass, not a martini shaker. Herring and gin martini go well. I also enjoy Vita's pickled herring in wine & vinegar. It's all a treat that should be enjoyed with ice cold vodka, which I've done, but poured and stirred a haphazard martini this Time, usually I'm more measured and precise, but to hell with that, nomesane? 

For upcoming Fathers' Day I've ordered enough frozen lobster meat to make us a couple of lobster rolls, Linda prefers the tail meat, I prefer the knuckle and claw, so some of each. Also for Fathers' Day I'm considering ordering from NYC Russ & Daughters' Deli, a couple of their herring offerings, plus a generous serving of their chicken liver pâté that friends have told me is the best out there, even among New York's Jewish delicatessens. 

Vita herring includes a lot of crispy onion, which is as good as the fish.

In the fridge I also have the remnants of pickled onions by a much-loved friend, the onions are scrumptious, the juice/liquor is perfect in a martini instead of olive juice - - next Time then.

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There are lots of stories &c online for me to go back and read as this afternoon's entertainment. Yesterday I read an essay about why populations are decreasing. Nobody with any sense needs an opinion essay to know that the reason populations are falling is that sensible young potential parents are realizing that the earth's future as their progenitors are offering it is a miserable prospect for a place to bring beloved children into. 

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The print in magazine articles and in church bulletins has grown too small for me to read, so in church anymore either I know the liturgy or I keep my mouth shut, either I know the hymns or I don't sing - - when I was in my fifties the bishop put me on his Counsel on Aging so I could become sensitive and responsive to the safety and reading needs, of elderly parishioners - - I think one has to age into their sixties before realizing that everybody in the pews can't read the tiny print that seems good enough for conserving paper - - in my day I had elderly and near-blind people transferring to my church because I insisted that print in our weekly church bulletins be large and welcoming 12-pitch and larger. Magazines also, no longer can I read the small print in The Atlantic or The New Yorker, so I wait for the online version of stories and articles, that I can enlarge to be comfortable for my ancient eyes - -

- - in that regard, this morning I read an essay article about "The Hum," on "Earth and Sky" as I recall, The Hum, which some people can hear, including me. I first became aware of it a few years ago while sitting in the car waiting for Linda in a store shopping. There's this low hum, and someTimes a vibration that made me think the car motor was still on, but it was not. The sound is not of traffic, nor of air conditioning systems in the area, but entirely separate and independent. A low hum and almost imperceptible vibration. Experiencing it over Time and in different places, I decided absurdly that it had to be the sound of the Universe expanding, or maybe of the earth rotating and revolving. But ridiculous or not, I'm satisfied with and settled on it as the sound of the Universe - - theologically, perhaps the ongoing presence and voice of Logos, the Word. In the beginning was the Logos, and ...

At theological seminary, my theology or New Testament professor said this: That the Logos never ceases speaking the creating Word, and in that theology and philosophy of the Logos, If the Logos ever stops speaking the creating Word, we, our earth, our Milky Way Galaxy and all two trillion galaxies, indeed the Universe, creation itself, not only will disappear, but will never have been.

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A blogpost is a wandering thing with a mind of its own, that comes from its pent up frustrations, directs itself, and goes where it will. In this blogpost I'm mindful that Linda read about pans with teflon nonstick coating, that they are a health hazard, and that she wanted to replace hers with titanium pans. With minimal research I ordered pans that I thought were from Japan and therefore had to be first class; turns out they probably are shipped from China and of inferior quality and may or may not ever arrive. So I ordered ceramic coated pans from GREENPAN in Italy, then I came upon HESTAN nanobond titanium pans and ordered those. The pans started arriving yesterday and shipments should be trickling in via FedEx and UPS all this coming week. Linda can choose what she wants of them and give the rest away. 

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Sunday dinner today: leftover ground lamb in RAO's thick tomato sauce over bronze-cut pasta from Italy. Glass of ice water. And a long winter's nap.

For creation with life and love 

RSF&PTL  

T90

drawing: from The Chronicles of Narnia, "The Silver Chair." Old Father Time sleeping in the underworld. It is said that he will awaken at the end of the world.