“Ezekiel* Fished Here!”

(October 24, 2018)

Ezekiel fished

these shores near century past

in that old dark lake


*(Elvira Gardner’s two books, Ezekiel and Ezekiel Travels about a young black boy in Sanford Florida, exquisitely illustrated by the author who lived for a time on Park Avenue and whose two (of three – the other written in Kentucky? featuring a cat) was written in the early-to-mid 1920s and never received much attention.  And even less “racial” attention which came to Mr. Samuel Langhorne Clemens book Huck Finn and perhaps Tom Sawyer acquired in the latter half of the 20th Century.  I have both Ezekiel and Travels and both are honest, written in black Bokey (a perhaps Gullah-derived word for Sanford still known in Georgetown and environs and celebrated by a mostly if not all-white Sanford Avenue-based “bike mob” who ride bicycles all about the area) talk and not once banned or banished to below-the-counter chicanery.  But the books are priceless heirlooms to many who have them, a few whose family came to them by chicanery – okay, theft and I know the story but am pledged to mum – and at last glance available still at vintage and unusual book-sellers online. One I sent to a fellow Sanford sailor’s son out Seattle-way.  I retain a first edition Ezekiel and one or two Travels in better condition and made sure a brother got both as well.  His copy of the first – the one not stolen – is lost amongst tons of books probably in many boxes.  I am sure should his daughter have progeny it will devolve on the progeny to find said books unless all are lost to some job-lot sale. And that is a shame.  Perhaps my copy shall find a home under-the-shelf at the Sanford Branch of the county library – with the proviso that should either or both become boka-non-grata they be returned to my family’s control go give to a suitable organization promoting and celebrating Sanford’s heritage.)

“More On The Weather Report”

(October 24, 2018)

more rain next few days

monday maybe mid-fifties

but that won’t last&


*(And, didn’t.  Time compression moved Monday to Friday and maybe the rain more meager than I’d wish, but it was God-spit most of the way downtown to the library and I brought my beach sandals as backup to the tenny-pumps which go water-sog at the slightest little sidewalk sheen much less a grassing gleaming with diamond-pearl globes of rain-dew still on those not-yet-shorn leaves.  Sleeping has been good, even if The World Serious (okay, Series…professional baseball) intrudes over the chattering-softly radio as I repose and wake in time for The Ninth Inning.)