Ugh. It’s 3:14 p.m. and I finished route Shade in that same shade at 2:59 again. Weird. It’s too easy. I’m stretching my breaks and taking a lunch, but I’ve been eating all day and there’s nothin’ left. I ate smoked almonds this morning like nobody’s business but mine. Seriously. Then it was a couple of veggie patties interspersed with my turmeric tonic. Then it was a sprouted multi-grain tortilla made according to a recipe in Ezekiel 4:9. I’m trusting the folks who make and/or market these tortillas, but I believe them. It did indeed taste as old as the Bible and had the texture of a leather cover to said book. While typing I just remembered my little box of almonds and a touch, just a touch, of dark chocolate. With this heat they are a perfect mess:
Well, this is nice. I’m backed into a spot, covered in shade, savoring—slowly—the delight of almonds covered in chocolate, listening to Franz Schubert’s Ave Maria for piano and cello.
I had to go pray, and that’s a relief. I get things off my chest in the cool quiet, and it’s always a free-flowing conversation with the creator. This time it was a three-part concerto, decidedly uptempo.
Now I’m back in the truck killing 9 more minutes so I can saunter back at a legitimately early time of 4 p.m.
We get off at 4:30 but I already did my route plus two expresses and drove all the way back to the station for a late-arriving third express package.
6 minutes. If I went back any earlier I’d be shooting myself in the foot, and I’ve said I ain’t gonna do that again.
The Romance For Cello and Orchestra in F, by Saint-Saens just ended.
Now I can go.
Come back for that evening post, please.