Fish

Only a few days ago, after so many years of living in the Northeast, I learned the difference between a striped bass and a blue fish.

As a kid, fishing with Dad, they were both real fighters, as compared with flounders. And on those rare evening family fish feasts, I had to clean them and they were both delicious to me.

But now I have a potential son in law who is a real fisherman and I am his student.

The meat of a blue fish is mostly dark and fishy. The striper is a bass and light and by American tastes – better.

Live and learn.


Larry

P.S. The fish Adam caught and brought to dinner was a striper. The fish I see jumping in the harbor off the porch is free.

On the Porch - again

It seems like a long time since I’ve been on this porch, content. I can think of dozens of emotions or states of being in the many months but certainly not content. Right now I’d be content with a long time of content. Enough excitement, creativity, growth, and yes anxiety. I’ll swap them all for contentness.

I know most of you are more expert at content than I and I sometimes envy you. My father taught me that each moment was precious. Good, bad, indifferent - no not indifferent – each moment of life was more important than money or success. Each moment could not be replaced, it was especial. Each moment was to be felt, dwelled in, and savored.

Life was a time (I’d say a long time) to gather all the experiences of time that you could. Pretty Faustian, don’t you think?

From the porch,

Larry

P.S. I’m so content I may take a nap.