Just A short – shorter than the sorter-short(er) earlier note…


The library from whence this is typed downtown Sanford, Florida, USA, closes at noon today and will reopen when and as and if…

Which is good.  I had to return a book. S.M. Stirling’s The Protector’s War, book two in his nearing-a-dozen series of Novels of The Change series.  I am way past recommending each of the books highly.  I have one left: the first – Dies The Fire. which since I follow few rules anywhere else why should books and their reading be different?

About three solid hours of sweat Saturday afternoon or Sunday morning, track of Irma depending, and I shall await my storm.  Ain’t life wonderful: free shows and thrills and adventures all for your not-asking!

Be well, all. And – in the immortal words of immortal Robert Anson Heinlein “Beware! Stobor!”

 

7 thoughts on “Just A short – shorter than the sorter-short(er) earlier note…

    • Thanks, Robert. The storm got scared of me outside peeing on the petunias in the side yard – okay, they were periwinkles, but the thought was there. Lots of drang but not so much sturm. Fools feeding their need for ‘lecticity during powerloss periods put generators inside homes and/or garages and thus became fodder – for literally and figuratively as my poor cell phone kept getting these reminders not so to do…among other things that keep bureaucrats gainful if not useful. But I am cranky. I got power back in 25 hours and wanted more rest! Later, O.

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    • I rather suspected I’d be answering my “mail” rather than inputting my week’s worth of drams. Yes, Sir Bruce. A lot of me survived. Lost electric but a day and one-half – pays to be on the same trunk line as the middle school, police and fire headquarters, no? And they don’t have far to go to haul me off iffin they can find the right-sized butterfly net. The Flying monkeys say “hi,” by-the-way. They say they’ll be b y when San Andy’s Fault lies bare like an overshot tennis serve. I had even stocked up on Goya Black Beans (in cans!) and made a pot of rice in case I lost power and ran out of other comistibles consumed off-the-shelf as it were. Had raisins. Had cream. Had some very nice Vin Santo and some homemade hazelnut biscotti. Want ‘nother hurricane soonest. I faint feel: see? I typest dyslexic, and have run out of all things bad for me save the candied tangerine and navel orange peels hiding in granulated sugar. Too bad I had to take the water in bottles to the solar heater – but I had not tea left so the wine had to do for dipper. And I just let the double-length garden hose solarize itself whilst full for my shower: damn! Hot! Very Damn Hot. Of it all I missed Larry Elder and Pastor Marty on radio: Eldursky back but I fear Mims] radio WPGS still without power. Pardon: must make contact with Luterlikowski and then scan the rest of my not-here-then messages. Be well and Beware You Own Stobor!

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      • Lake Monroe, our wetbasin in the midst of the St. Johns River hereabouts has three fossil faultlines at its western edge. Some of the so-called rolling hills hereabouts – actually just about 40 miles North and a bit West are remnants of the basalt base of The Appalachians (all those fine sparkling sandy beaches on both our coasts are reductions of the former tallest mountains on PE which were eroded downhill so to type over aeons past. AS to casting fores for hurricanes, even with modernity and satellites and such the fool things never seeem to subscribe to the notices and do what they wilt anyhoo. Pleasures of being, Bruce. We act and sometimes think we know where they lead. The universe is amused. I giggle sometimes too.

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