new mercies I see...Thank you, LORD, for an absolutely gorgeous morning: birds combining in their collective daily orchestra, brilliant sunlight reflecting off leaves of tree and blade of grass, last night's Bourne Identity plastic case lying open on the disc player.
I liked that move because it had a plot that I could follow and a happy ending (relatively speaking, of course. the kid still had bullet holes in his back, the girl was still an outlaw just like him, and she apparently blew all the cash he gave her buying this enormous stretch of ocean-front rocky cliffs, a rental establishment of some sort, and the wares to rent.) I'm a simpleton, and I need to be able to discern between good guys and bad guys as a story unfolds. I was able to in this film. I was not able to in the first two Mission: Impossible pictures. All that folks dyin and coming back to life and the mask wearin so they look like someone else stuff...alot of malarrrky if y'ask me.
Learned how to fly-cast yestreday. ('learned' is relative, also. I should have written, 'Yestreday, my beloved landlord showed me how easy it is to get the special thick fishing line out as far as you want acrsoss the lawn by whipping the pole back and forth between an 11:00 and a 2:00 position, letting the line catch up to you, and keeping your elbow in'. To properly have learnt a skill, the learner must be able to apply that skill in divers applicable situations, including in this case i> in a boat and ii> in the vicinity of the traditional bane of the fisher: trees.) But I think I'll try this week.
I'm drinking more water these days (no more smoking) and probably eating more (no more smoking) and developing other new habits to replace the old, nasty, skinky, murderous one.
I get to go see my local pnc or whatever the hell she's called in a few minutes here. She's not a doctor, but she has her own practice in town. I stopped calling her 'doc' and now it's just 'mrs. porter' or 'laurie'. Gotta get there...