Eight-eleven
Eight-eleven
The Feast of Saint Clare observed this day and a full moon which I could not help but notice at 3:25am. Smack in the middle of the Dead zone or the first quad of the new day.
Up early with a bout of anxiety OR high(er that normal) energy due to an accumulated store of sleep and rest. IOW I just had to get up and do something, anything really while it was cool, dark and most all beyond quiet and approaching still.
Yesterday afternoon God truly smiled and answered some prayers and wait for it …
It RAINED. Talk about tears of joy and pennies from heaven. I walked to fetch the postman’s daily drop in the pouring rain, sans bumby, and I was telling my roommate that the cold rain was at first a shock hitting bare, unprotected parched skin but like most things once acclimated felt like being on another planet that really was inhabited and could support life comfortably. As I walked up the slight incline of the drive towards the garage I looked up the rain striking my face and the thought was that perhaps there was intelligent life on this planet after all and it was wait for it ... me.
I felt the solitude, wet and tranquility and when I got inside I said to S1 that is was raining and that once again God took care of it. I KNEW he would.
This report is in honor of and an observance to Saint Clare.
It seems I became aware of the significance of the day last year and in a twist of odd I got yet another call from those über annoying little Chinese telemarketers asking or expressing an interest in selling the property at 811 and before he could say ‘Carlton road’ I lost it.
‘I sold that property in 2020 so remove it from your list’ and angrily hung up the phone and promptly blocked the number. I think maybe NEXT time I will tell the yes, I am interested in selling that property and THEN block the number in a deft and skilful annoyance payback maneuver. Then deny, deny and more denials.
I must tell Emma once again in an answered prayer that I HAVE found cherry ice cream in time for summer enjoyment.
HOW?
Well kemo sabe, the story actually goes that it literally FOUND me.
Yesterday the Tuesday grocery fliers were delivered a day late and don’t ax why. I was just rifling thru them and in the lean Market Street sheets I notice that Tillamook Oregon Dark Cherry is ON SALE for $3.99.
And the dreadful Blue Bell cherry vanilla thanks to the assist from S1 was down to the LAST nano-single serving. I told him to finish the carton with a long spoon as tomorrow we would go shopping to Market Street for one item and get right home so the ice cream would not risk a melt down.
So yesterday was a better day, a good day.
Oh, another boost occurred as we discovered that we had Netflix on the ‘smart telly’.
HOW?
Look Tonto, I was going to get to that.
On a recent visit, FB installed the app or whatever you do she logged in on my tv so the grandees could watch the idiotic cartoons the nextgens are so smitten with but prompts me to gag and to stick a finger down throat. We were going to watch a dvd from the collection of S1 but before we could drop it in the Netflix logo comes up on the mega-screen.
So I says ‘let’s try this …’.
Longish story truncated, it worked. For grins we tried a good looking sci-fi movie called Manifest. Well it turned out to be a series, we had started series I and were off and running.
I had heard about this log in loophole with Netflix but thought little of it and certainly would not go out of my way to larcenously obtain such service but when something lands in your lap, even a stripper, one MUST truly consider, ponder and reflect on ALL of the ramifications prior to acting and doing something regrettable later and after the fact.
I mentioned the full moon earlier. I had to check when the various Picasso monochrome shapes and shadows cast by the windows and frames caught my eye and scintillated my slumbering imagination.
WOW!
Funny. That looks like you misspelled ‘how’ Ms Bold Caps.
I think I will end this report here now and tuneIn Horror Theater while dark and until the sun comes up.
So say a quick prayer to Saint Clare. The patron saint for laundry, good weather, bicycle messengers and needleworkers among others.
I kid you not. Look it up. Then write it down.
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