Musings: My Dad; How I am remembered; Good food

 I dreamed about my Dad last night (Aug 20/21).  He died at aged sixty three in 1974,  when I was thirty years of age,


It was a funny and comforting dream.  How wonderful (or sad)  it is when the dead visit us.


How strange it is that in our dreams we do not hear words, but we understand the conversation.



Here he is with my Mum.  I love you Dad.


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For a number of years in the late 1990's I attended a wonderfully affirming  retreat for gay Christian men at the  KIRKRIDGE  RETREAT center in Bangor, PA.

Today (out of the blue) I received a Face Book message from one of the other participants in those retreats.  To be honest I scarcely remember him.

But he wrote:  "I miss you at our Kirkridge Men's Retreats. Always liked your jokes and stories. Blessings Brother!"

He got me right after all these years!

Those who know me most will remember me best by my jokes and my stories.


----------------------------------------------------------------------


Lunch today:


Baked  Sea Bass, with corn, black eyed peas, and canned mixed greens. 

Peasant rather than Gourmet.

But there is not a damn thing wrong with peasant food!










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