Where I've been

No, I have not been on jury duty for the last two weeks.

On that fateful Monday, when we were kept in a freezing (but beautifully appointed) courtroom (in the spanking-new Freeman Justice Center) for several hours that allowed me to make significant progress in "The Trial of Socrates," we were finally dismissed by the presiding judge, who told us that our presence had intimidated two defendants into accepting plea-bargains.

And for that bit of civic duty as a live round in the State of Florida's loaded gun, I will get a $15 check in the mail.

But by the time I got home to tend further to Robert's wounded foot, shown here in reduced size in deference to those who, like me, do not care to look closely at rent flesh, I realized that I had stepped into a social maelstrom.

In short order, the lonely-for-company Robert had ordered up guests who called for cocktails (and hors d'oeuvre, and dinner) here, more snacks, more drinks, another round of dinners here, the occasional light foray out to the cabaret, more lunches, more dinners, and. . . . You get the picture.

There were two complete sets of friends from Chattanooga and environs, two complete sets from Nashville, all here several times. And mixed into all that were record cold temperatures, record gray days and the attendant midwinter malaise that has affected me every year since at least high school, which is many a drear year indeed.

But now, with the stitches finally out, and no company due for at least a week: Though I still have not heard the voice of the turtle, I can try to sing along with Solomon that the winter is past. Selah.