If I counted properly, the title of this post reveals that we will be leaving Fiddler’s Cove on October 8th. If I’m wrong, Diane is going to let me know. For now, let’s just pretend I’m right. I know, that’s rare, but sometimes I get lucky.

I’m sitting on our very large patio enjoying the cool breeze from the bay washing over me, making everything good. For those who might be wondering, Diane is thriving down here. Though there are actually many green plants and trees, they are different from the NW version and don’t seem to clog her up. This was our hope. That, and the occasional SH-60 Seahawk, F/A-18C/D Hornet, and MV-22 Osprey makes our days a little exciting and the nights sometimes shorter than desired. I keep calling the aircraft noise “the sound of freedom” and that makes it more tolerable for me. Diane? Not so much at night.

At 1030 Diane summoned me from the patio so I could get properly dressed for our trip to Anchors. We had a lunch date. One at which I vowed to eat the entire 2 hours the place is open. That’s from 1100 to 1300.

We got there about 1115 which meant there was no possible way I could obtain my goal. So, I got busy right away to make the most of it. Thankfully, there were more people later than us so we had a chance to load up before they appeared.

We sat at a large table with 8 chairs until after 1200 then a group showed up and asked if they could sit with us. Of course they could. It was a family representing 3 generations. I only remember 2 names — Rose and Joon. Their daughter and a friend (?) and the daughter’s grandparents were the other two. Grandpa told me his name, but I forgot during the 10-mile trip back to Max. I seek forgiveness but must point out that it’s amazing I remembered two of the names. During the short time we sat at that table visiting I feel we formed a bond of friendship. Apparently asking permission before sharing anything inappropriate was a good idea. I’m glad I remembered to do that. So is Diane.

Our new friends.

Now it’s 1815 and memories of lunch have jogged my need for some kind of supper. Diane chose cocoa and toast, with marshmallows. That made Max happy because he loves toast and knows he’ll be able to shame Diane into giving him a nibble. I was going to eat the shrimp Diane bought for me at the commissary, but they were frozen, so I had two hotdogs instead. Now I’ll have to figure out why things are freezing in the refrigerator.

Now I’ll quit. Be safe. See you tomorrow.