Time in a bottle

Jim Croce's timeless hit song written to and for his son A.J. is running through my head at the moment. If I could save time in a bottle, one of the many things I'd like to do is spend a lot of that time studying ancient manuscripts and compare them with modern theological thought. Rick Warren's latest edition of The Purpose Driven Life: What on Earth am I here For? will most likely be added to my reading list soon. You ask, what does Rick Warren and ancient manuscripts have in common? They are all an exploration of the relationship between mortal man and an immortal God. Yes, big G.

While I have become persuaded that the earliest peoples of biblical times may have been polytheistic, I still believe that the one God, the creator of all things, was the God supreme and was to be regarded as the only god in reverence and worship, if not the only god De facto. In more modern times I believe that a polytheistic mindset would be confusing at the least and torture at the worse. Tampering with modern theology is most likely a dangerous thing to do, considering our background imprinting and self promoting bent. In other words, we probably have enough to worry about without trying to keep several to many deities in perspective.

This is no doubt going in a direction that would have been best posted on my other blog, Dendrite Activity @ http://fiberflashes.blogspot.com/, but it just began streaming out of my head when I sat down to update this blog.

Back to lighter material. The end of the month where I work is always a bit frantic, especially for managers. And this eom is especially frantic for me. We switched from a monthly audit cycle to a quarterly audit cycle and I reached the end of the month to find my quarterly audit done the first week of the last month of the quarter had gone on a trip into cyber space. So, nothing to do but rescan. I will be done tomorrow, just squeaking by. Of course those who know me best know that I seem to live just squeaking by. Sorry about the eos with a prep. phrase. Sometimes the mind doesn't think in the King's English. My sincere apologies to my dear friend and English professor in college Mrs. Kathleen Rousseau, God rest her soul.

Life has been so frantic lately I have failed to make time to eat any of the pansit my Filipina friend, Margylou made for me. The formal spelling, Pancit Bihon, is a Filipino dish very much like Chinese fried rice, only using very thin noodles instead of rice. There are a number of different pansits eaten in the Philippines, but the dish I am familiar with is indigenous to the main island of Luzon, and known throughout Southeast Asia. Most of the time pansit is made without meat or with finely chopped pieces of either pork, chicken, shrimp or fish. I have had all but the fish. And I'm not real sure I even want to try the fish. Filipinos regularly eat fried fish heads and rice for breakfast. I never tried it. Nor did I ever try roasted dog mostly sold on the street skewered on sharp sticks or fermented embryo duck or chicken eggs known in Tagolog as Balut. Nasty smelling stuff.

A long way to say I've been too busy to eat something a friend so graciously prepared for me and my sweet daughter-in-law, Diana. Diana is a VERY adventurous gourmand. Not the indiscriminate eating part, but the fond of good eating part. She and I will enjoy the pansit providing I have not waited too long to eat it.

Not much else to report. The basement family room remodel is coming along OK. I have two small places that still need a piece of drywall and that phase will be finished. I was able to find the power side feed from the two way switches which controlled a light just beyond the bottom of the stairs and add a light over the stairway. Made a nice difference both in aesthetics and illumination of the steps. We pulled the carpet off the steps and plan to paint them and put hooked rug treads down.

Pictures later. I am closing tomorrow night (well, tonight now!!) but off on Sunday. Woohoo. Giann and I had dinner at Sergio's in Bridgewater tonight. He makes what I think is the best pizza I have ever eaten. And I have been a major fan of pizza since 1966. Sergio is Italian born and came to the US when he was young, learned the pizza trade in the northeast, then ventured down to the valley. His sister also works with him. Go by and see them. Tell them Mr. Bruce sent you.