Goodnight. A blah end to a blah day.

So much for plans. It looks like I have to get back on my medication and get it back into full affect. Until then, I am grounded. Foolishness, in spite of truth; I love the reality if I hate the facts. The reality is the medications work and splendidly, the facts are that in helping another and not taking my medications, I have set myself back. At least it is temporary. This meant no confession and no church today, probably not tomorrow though it is a goal. And, I may have to see what I can get done with a confession more quickly if out of normal order, it is time. I cannot accept Eucharist until I do. In another arena, I can give the officer who called me a return call Monday even if my malaise continues. Worst case scenario we play phone tag for a bit and settle in eventually on a time and place, best scenario I am awake and able to receive him into my home for a discussion if he works on these matters. I am not sure what he can offer, or how he can direct me, but I am a gambler. One with an ace or two up his sleeve, I do not like to lose even if liking has little to do with reality and aces only go so far.

I roasted chicken last night, as well as ribs. The ribs were fantastic, and I am just about to try the chicken. I used a roaster my lady friend bought for me. I cannot remember the exact details. Either it was all or half pay back for a loan. If half of it was loan reimbursement, then the rest was Christmas, loan thanks, and other unassociated thanks. She did ask which manufacturer I prefer, and I had to look into it. Though I usually go All-Clad, after looking into their roaster, I had to decline. I do start with my favored brands, but then I almost always research and compare products. Usually All-Clad pans are special because of the incorporation of aluminum inside the steel in the bottom and up to reasonably near the tops of the pots and pans. This was not the case with their roaster. So, I found another maker, Calphalon (contemporary stainless) and a preferred roasting rack, All-Clad, for use in it. I went with the All-Clad rack, as in spite of the failings of their roaster, their rack is superior, and initially I could not see if the Calphalon came with a rack or not. The reason I wished for an aluminum core was that it allows for the production of gravy in the roaster right on the stove without warping the pan (and I would think eventually ruining the pan). So, with the drippings, just my understanding of things and no recipe, I tried just such a stunt. I made chicken gravy.

Now, I will not say one other human on this planet will like my gravy. I certainly will not claim that it is as good as your grandmother’s or even your mother’s gravy. What I will say is that to me it was excellent, uhm, very good is more like it. I believe I now know the simple nature of gravy production and henceforth will have no concern on the matter, if practice and experiments with spices will enhance quality. After years of other methods and consistent failure, I am well pleased with this.

As I am heating my food in the oven, I decided to add a touch of tarragon to the gravy, which is in a ramekin on the plate. I cannot wait to taste it again. Oh, there is the beep

A pleasant meal. And better, few dishes!

The Queen had a request. Today was the final day for a specific sale and she was all done in. Could I, she wondered, make my way to the said store and make purchase of the noted items, in such and so number and flavor? It was a message, so a quick call to the Q.O.D. with an assurance, and off I went like a speeding snail. Yeah, well, I needed to shower. Then, hmm, who knows what else. Oh, my list of spices! I looked over my supplies, wrote down the spices and portions that were desired, and headed right out the door to sit in my vehicle while getting the cd’s I have been listening to out and putting a new set in. *sigh* Fast as a 1990 modem, reliable as a Russian _______, accommodating as a Chinese Official! At least I got out of the house. I got to the store and realized I left my list of spices right where I would not forget it (and technically, did not forget as I knew right were it was). Still, I made off with most of what she wanted and at least some of what I wanted, spearmint to add to some of my tea and a few spices I was sure I needed. I told you it was messy around here.

Something that may or may not be throwing my game off is that this morning I went on the patch. Waking up and getting going without a pinch between thumb and index finger relayed to cheek and gum was a bit harsh. It took a good long time for the patch to begin dosing. I am pretty sure I am still a bit off kilter just for that reason. Well, I thought I would try to post in any case.

A piece of ∏ on my mind.

I just finished watching "∏" (as in greek letter and math symbol). I had wanted to watch in when if first came out. For some odd reason, I was warned off it by a number of fellow engineering students and a professor, in a number of separate situations. Silliness, it was a show like any other. They might have done better warning me off Conspiracy Theory, that actually got my juices flowing. I did enjoy ∏.

∏ underlines why I chose not to pursue math further than I have and will be required to do. One last course and I am done with the stuff. Except of course for usage. There are only questions in it, and no answers to be found pursuing it that our limited rationality augmented by the finest computers which do not yet exist can come close to fathoming. Nothing it provides will be useful, even to the lowest step toward heaven it is now believed by some, and falsely, to reach. It is a fine pursuit for those who may safely enter the realm of questions. I have yet to meet such a one. I have only seen lost men sure that this theory they propose will be the answer, until it fails or they fail to complete the proof, and is repeated until their time is done. Some of these men are more lost than others, but none are untouched. It has only given them something to do before they die and after they were born. A few produced useful work and provided useful techniques in antiquity. Most today are quite sterile of even functional value. Let them play, they are a rather harmless lot.

In the movie, the protagonist presumed a number of things, which given the scope and direction of the movie seem to bolster my belief that movies are produced by the simple for the simpler, perhaps even my thesis that mathematicians are lost. All I know is, if I propose a character and setting, I could present no functional timeline in which that character learns nothing and no one else sees folly where it is plain. This character seems not to see what the movie seems to present, albeit sharply implicitly. None of the other characters see it, none of the sequences hint about it, and I think it may have been lost to those who wrote, those who produced, and most who watched. Simply put, the movie, through characters and evidence continually claims, roughly, that the universe and all is based upon numbers, that it is numbers. And, it argues there may or may not be a way to understand those numbers, how they sequence, and thus gain true knowledge. Yet everything in the movie actually indicates something quite different. It develops that the numbers only represent the universe. Something I have seen clearly forever, it seems. As well, though not something I get from the movie but believe, numbers may hold truth, but only past truth in such a manner we might perceive currently and no substance as absolutes. Through further iterations and manipulations, the future might or might not be seen, that is debatable, though that would require perfect understanding and reckoning, which is undeniably unattainable currently (currently as in; while inhabiting this life form).

Much as an artist who paints a picture of a fair maiden, living in a castle, with many servants, piles of gold, and many other blessings may never enter that painting and marry the damsel represented or lay claim any of the other rendered elements, so to can scientists and mathematicians never entertain their theories or numbers in form. It is madness. It matters not an iota how correct those numbers, theories, or portraits seem to be or even are, they are not real, cannot be realized. Simple, really, and frustrating thought it must be. This is why I should pursue engineering, should my will and way persist. My work will be real should I deign to dignify the craft with my coming of age, collecting of mental tools, and if all holds with a refurbished hail demeanor. Lord knows I shall never conquer the world of painting, prose, love, or politics. Even my shadows present problems for me at times. *laughs* We shall see.

Still, I do believe I enjoyed the movie. Something nameless and simple about it attracted my attention and I understand questions. Perhaps too, I know something of the labyrinth in which those questions may lead. I know about stepping back, letting go, and finding other paths in different directions. One might even say, if I thought his solution would work to such a degree, at one time I might have tried it as the lesser of darkness’s. So, I could recommend this. Though I think it is not for most, a trinket for geeks from some movie maker. But a major possible joy to those in this niche.

Well, in a nutshell... (the size of Manhattan)

Tiger Lily had called early, she was forced to leave a message. I slept late, as I had spent a good deal of time and into the later evening with her. We had watched Star Trek II and III, (Revenge of Khan and In Search of Spock, give or take on the titles) last night into the late. After the first movie, she had wished me to return to the cave and bring butter, oil, and tea back. The woman is a culinary mess. So, I get these, she pops popcorn (which she did have), we brew some of my mint tea, and watched the second movie. Perfect, in a way. She provided for the movies and the popcorn which she popped, I provided the oil, butter, and tea, and did the fetching. We both enjoyed both movies, but she really enjoyed the second. She did not believe she had seen it. I had brought Star Trek III because I was certain it was integral to Star Trek II, and it proved out. It pleases me to do things correctly, to get things right, and to complete tasks wholly. Ah, a pleasant night. So, back to her call.

Her message indicated she wanted me to drive her around, and maybe mess around, platonic folks as that is my rule. So, I call and see what the current situation is, though I inform her that it is nearly time for my doctors appointment. She was just a wee put out that I was not awake in the morning to pamper her a bit, it is in her voice and wording. She is feeling better and she will be going to work tonight, she says. Good, I say… very good. Now I can get back to my life. And more, I was a little worried for my song bird. She needed water and a serving of beans. Well, ok, my cooked and stored beans, Coop beans, or something else. A little clarity little one, I request. Your beans, and it is not a question. Beans, a serving, and water as soon as may be. She knows it is my payday, and I know she knows. *sigh* And I know she is going to stay up until I deliver, but there simply is no time before my appointment since I have to buy water as well and cannot just give her a container of mine.

As in most doctors visits, I get to see the nurse first. We informally discuss a few things as she was weighing me and then taking vital signs. Among the topics discussed was tobacco, she brought this up. I knew the VA did not offer a regimen of the nicotine patch that I had found successful the time it worked, then messed up by visiting my mother too soon after quitting, she being a chain smoker. I did not think the VA offered 21 mg patches either, it did not when I had asked before. Yes and no, she believed. Yes, we offer the 21mg patch now, but probably not for a month stretch in each flavor. She suggested I ask the doctor though as he might know better. I have been trying to figure out how to purchase my supply of the patch up front, as I have tried before, only to have my finances come a little short and the venture end as an expensive waste. And, I would like to quit. Chewing tobacco, Cophenhagen to be specific, since I was 9 or 12 or some foolish age as such. I also indicated that, as I am becoming active, my feet are beginning to pain me to no small degree, only a 3 out of 10 today though. I have kept at it anyway, and it was not a part of the previous problems so I had not brought it up with the doctor yet. Yes, a doctor thing for sure, she indicated. Nice lady, really. She is a little sad seeming at times, she is a bit older, but she has a clean crisp motherly nature. I did enjoy our time and visit, even in it’s professional constraints. I hope she is somebody’s grandmother, as she would be a good one.

I am shepherded to the doctor, who leads me to a check-up room. I think the doctor was impressed, just by my appearance. I am always clean cut, showered, dressed casual though well in a humble manner, and courteous. Today all is as usual but I am walking a bit taller and stronger, he sees more than just a little lost weight and more size difference than the numbers take into account, and my eyes and mind are unquestionably focused, and then I present a smile and the hand shake of a man coming back into his own. When I described life, even with this last week’s interruptions, the first impression grew to a satisfaction. A satisfaction in his work, in my efforts, and some extra just for the fact that life is not always bad and he was getting to share in a small piece of that. Life is moving along at a good clip, I am doing much better, I tell him. It has been the longest positive stable stretch in years at a little over a month and a half now, he says. He wants to keep things as they are for the moment and see if my activity will lower my blood pressure the touch more he would find respectable. Though he did put me back on the water pill, as I suspected he would, he reassured me that the dose was indeed small and if I had had no difficulties with sun exposure that I probably would not. He suggested a hat, a long sleeve shirt, and jeans as better than sunscreen. I concurred and assured, and will. As well, he would like to maintain the nurse visits. Rocking such a problematic boat does not seem to be his order of the day, in six weeks he would be happy to dismiss the miss if I still so desired and things were still on the up. He offered to let me insist on ending the nurse visits or not going with the water pill. I told him he has been doing quite well with this so I am comfortable leaving steerage in his hands and that his reasons were sound. But more and though I did not tell him as much, he did not lie.

Onto new matters. He knows how hammer toed I am, all but my big toes point straight down, though this has not been an issue until recently. Sitting barefoot in a chair or in bed results in little toe contact with hard shoes and reality. And my big toes have almost no flexibility on their usual axis. So, he prepares to send me to prosthetics for shoe inserts after we finish and sets up a referral to the podiatric clinic. My mother already said she would stay with me a bit if surgery is needed and I already know I will not go in twice for surgery if both feet are indicated. Though I would do it all at once with or without help. Hit the damn nail until it is in or leave the work to real men! He prescribed the patch, the whole works of it. So, tomorrow, I start those. And, I will be quite happy. I was scratching my head and recounting numbers trying to figure a way to work that cost. I paid myself last time, and it was about $250. Plus, I was just about out of tobacco. Perfect timing!

So, after the doctor, a visit to drop my information at the pharmacy for filling (not all of it can be done electronically), and a quick visit to obtain boot inserts and end up receiving two pair of inserts plus being informed I could and should refill the inserts in six months by letting them know, then downstairs in order to wait for my prescriptions, and then I was finished. I was a bit amazed, having arrived a half hour early as is my current custom, I did everything and was on my way in an hour and a half, or more, an hour after seeing my doctor. I headed to the store first thing, filled some of my requirements while getting her water. More milk, MY kind this time and two whole gallons of the full fat stuff, seven and a half gallons of water plus 2 gallon jugs for her, a few treats (hush), some ribs to roast while I roast the chicken hindquarters tonight, and a few other odds and ends. Back to the cave, put things away, separate her water, put some beans in container, and over to her place I go. She almost thanks me, though she is a little sore I did not play earlier and a little unhappy it took so long, and I believe she is not the most pleased to be going to work again. Ah, but papa bear has done his job, and the broken winged chickadee is well and about to fly, like it or not. *push* hehehehe

Now, what trouble can I get into? Hmm, I would like to call the officer back and see if we cannot meet or whether that is of any use. I need to wait a bit on the neighbors, as the stork is circling their house, preparing to drop a little goo-bot on their already chaotic life, however I would like to get an update on their tactical situation. Gee, I think I am sweating it more than the husband and in some ways even the wife, as she seems more interested in timing and the labor pains than the delivery! And I want a wife and kids? *sigh* Yea. *hits hand with hammer* I do. *places finger in pencil sharpener* I am sure it will complete me. *slams hand in car door* I think about it and, yea… no, yes.. proper, solid, yes. *laughs* I never really was a man to take the easy way, and pain just seems to be a healthy part of life, beyond, it is not all pain, not even a majority I should think. The whole pain thing is just to scare off those who are not ready, mostly.

I need to get back out to the path, find some other paths, go fishing, get to mass and probably confession which they seem to be calling something else these days, go swimming, get back in to the rock wall, and just begin taking life by the horns again. Though I must add this. This last week was a true joy. To be able to be a comfort and help to someone, to play and enjoy a little company, and to feel as if I was able to repay some old debts was more gratifying than I can say. It was not easy, it was not always what I preferred to do at some moments, it took patients especially in the heat, but it was worthwhile in every way. And, I did quite well. I did not get short, tired, or flimsy. I did not catch her illness (as I told her I would not, every five to seven years is my deal with that, I get a two week fevered rollercoaster ride of delusional heaven and hell). But, I am tired now, I will enjoy a few days off to recharge, then get going with confession tomorrow morning, church in the evening, and rest Sunday with maybe a little target practice in the afternoon. For this purpose, and while I was renting videos per the Queen’s commands yesterday, I picked up some of the videos on Bane’s list, and a newer one which I had missed in the theatres but which, after careful review, may pass my Hollywood stench muster.

The lion ponders his many prey. The grasses that sways to and fro catch his eye. A thatch of which he attacks in jest, play, safety, and joy, sharpening his nature. Then his thoughts and senses find traces of the jackals, gazelles, water buffalo, and zebras which surround him. Those which are no small joy to deal with, but which carry their own and real dangers. He thinks of the others, the lionesses, the nearby males, and what each means. He thinks of his days in the sun and in pride, of growing and leaving his mother’s pride, and he thinks of a pride of his own. And this one wonders many things besides. But his hungers are haunting, yearning, incessant, and perhaps insidious, forcing him from his reverie, destroying his peace. He is himself again, and moving. It is time.

This one is a show stopper.

How nice. I saw my first drug deal go down today. Two black men approached another, there was the typical banter. They were too far away, among other things, for me to hear. I saw the singular remove a little rectangular fold of paper and watched him move it toward one of the other men. I could not see it pass between the two, but I saw that it was no longer in the hand of the initiator when we brought it out from between the two of them. Fine you say. Except that there was an 8 year old and a 6 year old playing a few yards away. Fine you say. But it was out my kitchen window where I saw this. Stuff your “fine”.

I called the police, what a help. Now, to decide what to do. Either I get some satisfaction, or I move. I will go into the station, I will speak with my neighbors, and I will decide what to do from there. But, I am leaning toward moving out. I am thinking the police have no power. The politicians locally, in this Democratic state, and at the federal level have pretty much turned their backs on the issue, and others. But where to go, this is not simple. This junk is everywhere, and the police seem disinterested wherever one goes, either because they are wholly incapable, totally unsupported at the upper levels of the force and the judicial level, or bought and corrupt. I know, in this county, whose side the prosecutor is on. Leftist areas always hire Nifong types.

But where is reasonable without a boatload of money? There are not many clean places left even in Iowa. Our last two governors have supported the import of these types probably in order to permanently changed the political dynamics here, in favor of their party. I will have to think about it, but I am pretty sure I cannot stay.

Love is in the air, the time approaches.

You know it is a hot summer when this old coot gets love in his blood and considers the reverie of mating squirrels to be reasonable. I cannot say what it is, there is no woman tracking on my radar, but the thrum and rumble issue deep from within. It is a feel even more than a psychic sound, as what a deaf man would sense near a Harley. It throttles and then idles, the ebb and flow beyond my understanding, but it is alive. I am alive.

My senses reel as I understand I am coming back to life, perhaps more so than in decades. It brings memories of my early and late teens, and early twenties, up to my first death. That power is truly awesome, even in powerful righteous self-assured men, whether that power can be handled correctly must always be on the mind. Like a chainsaw, one small slip and great damage can ensue. I understand the way I courted then, though, a bit more. I realize it was almost completely hormones and perceptions. With my advanced age and experience, I begin to get glimpses of what it must be like on the females side of it. The guilt must come from the fact that in the dance, her perceptions do not fully fit a more reasoned later understanding. That with her natural, social, and probable culture disinclination to certain forms of romance and certain levels of openness and forwardness, her enlivened actions and reactions in the dance leads directly and immediately to guilt once reason returns. I would also suppose that the early and fast way of dealing with this guilt was marriage, or finding whatever place in her society would allow a guilt free walk into such heady territory. When people died in their 20’s and 30’s, there was rarely time to find dissatisfaction! Ah, but these are not my problems, I have enough of my own.

As I have said, I dreamed of her. I was not sure I would be able to pursue this maiden, but I knew from my dreams that she is out there. Now, I am sure I could pursue the opportunity. At this point, care must be taken. I will not spill seed again until I am married, and as a man, I feel it is my duty to protect her honor in the time before such an event, most especially from her and myself. This goes back to the handling of the chainsaw bit. A practiced hand does wonders, but must never become overconfident. And, more, I do not have a practiced hand so I will seek guidance. My blood boils and courses, my hormones scream, and my mind clouds, but I must be the lord of my flesh and domain.

My lady friend has appeared. She is hungry and wishes to watch video or go to a show. So be it. I could use the company. A pretty lady, a sensuous daughter of man, and a friend are always a high priority, though she cannot be the One. So, excuse my while I tend our simpler needs and wants and enjoy a pleasant day.

Sleep, gain, and loss, music to the ears.

My nap was splendid. There was a problem with a friend that was bothering me as I slipped into sleep. I had offered advice and comment previously. Both seemed off and both received responses that left me questioning some things. One hour and fifty five minutes later, I awoke on my waterbed, smelling dinner, and I believed Melissa had just been in our bedroom (did I ever say how gorgeous she is?), probably considering whether to wake me for dinner but she wanted to check on dinner before she made the decision. Sometimes she just stands in the room naked and wakes me with her presence and then offers a gentle smile. As well, I had dreamed a response to the friend. It seemed reasonable, so I decided to use it.

As things came into focus, I realized I was not on my waterbed because I do not have a waterbed. Weird. Then I realize that the presence in my room could not have been Melissa, I left her in Charleston years, decades ago, crying and looking down as I drove away never to return. And, that meant dinner was not on the stove. That threw me for a little bit of a loop. I was really hungry! Bah, ok, a few tears for lost loves to be sure.

Anyway, I pop up, clear the mental mess, and take note of what I have and need. The message from the dream! Can I remember it? I really am hungry, so a toast tuna sandwich is produced and does the trick. Certainly not the gourmet cuisine I had smelled. While doing this, I turn the machine on and let it stew until tepid. After completion of my supper, I go to the place where I am to post.

Then, I begin to get nervous. Will this be another failed attempt, swatted aside like all the other leavings. Will this just cause hard feelings as the others seemingly have? I am not sure if I am any longer in this lady’s grace, in any case, but not for my part. I present a little extra, something that was not in the dream, as my beginning. A personal note regarding my intentions and such. Then I let her know wherefrom the rest of the response arrived, and begin.

I am still a bit tired and heartsick, but I did my best. I can only hope it lends meaning to her toils and life. Perhaps it allows her to know someone she has never met thinks after her, her welfare, and her hopes and dreams. I do not know. I never will understand this place, people or their reactions, or the absurdities, profundities, and such which incorporate solely within the frame of the living again. One might even say I cannot understand youth, and what resides there. Though I lived it in my earliest youth, I was never a part of it. I knew it then as now. Perhaps I shall soon know her response.

Ah, a little Bach to wipe away my tears and reclaim the flesh as I continue to wake. Some music to send the whispers of doubt and dread to the corners of madness from whence they came. A little peace, for a moment.

A nap, I do believe.

I do not believe I will be going to the rock wall tonight. I am just too tired. It really is not that I have been doing a lot of things, just a number of them, in the heat, and I really am not up to par yet. Beyond that I suppose I am just human. So many lists of things to do, so many wants, and of course needs, but how many of those lists are ever really completed? Even if a few lists get done, are they not then refilled almost immediately? Yes, I am sliding a bit. Ok, I will not play that game. I guess I have lost this day, and the last few. I can only be pleased that I have done something for someone else.

She has been told to stay home by the doctor. She may not have a fever of 100 F, but she does still have a fever. She is to stay home so long as she has a fever, and this is her work doctor, so she is in the clear. It will tighten her purse though, and that will not be fun. I cannot help much this or next month, but I can share some of my food, decidedly non-organic as it is. And, I can invite her out for walks, though I will probably go on ahead of her, as she is far too slow, then return to her when I am tired enough to lollygag. But, she can get some sun, woods, and walking without paying for the gas. She does not seem interested in fishing or swimming, but if I get a captive freebie passenger, I will let her know that even something free has a price, the price is watching my stuff while I swim after a walk. No surprises, but no negotiations. She can bring a book. Well, when she is feeling better anyway.

As I was heading home, she must have called. I thought the cel was vibrating, but it has tricked me before, so I ignored it. It seems Star Trek is on the wish list of my friend. The one where Spock sacrifices himself. She could not remember whether it was a movie or part of the series. I assured her that it was one of the movies, though which one I could not be certain. I only remember the name of the first, and worst, one. I informed her that not only was it a movie, but that it was a part of a series of two movies. I then asked if both would be on her list. She just did not know. Well, for my part, I am going to call around and see if I can track them down. I would like to have had a nap, but I do not think I will have time. Oh, and she thanked me. She thought I had been very good to her lately in spite of Scrabble. She has yet to win a game out of the 5 or 6 we have played. Her scores have mostly been in the respectable 350 range, but it just has not been enough.

Sorry, my blog is mostly about her, our doings, and such lately. But, that is what has been filling my life, so, in it goes. Wow am I tired. I think I will just take a nap and see what happens from there. A two hour nap usually does it, I set an alarm and usually am awake and moving before it goes off.

Another day, another list.

Slept well, got up late. C’est la vie. No mass, that is a bummer. I need to speak to my priest about visiting other churches for mass. We have five in the area, and they each hold mass at a different time, from 8:00 to 17:00, give or take. I am pretty sure he will concede, considering my effort to make it to my home church (if failing often) and my sincere interest in attending mass. I suppose I could just take the problem in hand, but if I am to give my will to God and join in the body of Christ in the church, then I will have to start acting like a member of that body and seeking guidance in, at least, religious matters. The nurse called, and will be going on vacation soon, therefore she will be arriving shortly, as she apparently needs to catch up on paperwork. I will not cancel her without my doctor’s approval, so she will be here in moments. Hey, my doctor has been working with me I prefer to return the courtesy. If he is getting the data, or has a use for that service himself, AND is honest about it all with me, we might work something out. I can be negotiable, if I am not a negotiator.

Oh, as I was viewing the news this morning, I found a piece that confirms that I am not completely alone. There are other cowards out there. This man is more afraid of a little human than many other things, even in his age of wisdom. I was gladdened to see it. Our mutual cowardice is indicated further down in the article, but it rang bells here.

I had best get some of the boxes off the couch. I keep meaning to get some things packed and my last room rearranged, retire some old games and old unused clothing, and make room for my reloading press and open up the space for straight weights and piano practice again, so I have been holding onto some of the right sized boxes. It just has not happened to date. My lady friend has asked that I hold onto the odd sized boxes as well, as she prefers to recycle. I let her, though I think it an unwise practice. I do this because it helps her feel important in the world and the little she could possibly recycle makes no real impact on the larger problems regarding recycling. *sigh* But she has been busy, on vacation, or sick for a bit so the boxes I will not be using linger. I could break them down, but really, I do not like setting my hand to ill notions. Then again, should I be sending them to the landfill or burning them, I would break them down. *sigh, again* Ok, fine, I have painted myself in a corner and will just have to get busy.

Actually, I am glad the nurse insisted on a visit. After writing the paragraphs above, I got things on the move in order to tidy the place a bit, then realized today was trash day. I develop so little garbage, that two week pickup would be fine, if some things did not produce pungent odors anyway. If something goes bad in the fridge, I just leave it there until trash day. I had some things there that really had to go. And though I remembered trash day last week, I had not cleared the fridge. Ah, one more little thing off my mental list of things to do. Nice.

Then for a shower and driving Miss Daisy. *ring…* doorbell…

Ok, that went fairly smoothly. The medications are reset, and I found that one of the medications I had thought I was taking had been discontinued. I will discuss this with my doctor, as it had been causing no ill affects and may have been lowering my blood pressure by a few points. Then again, maybe not. That medicine had a warning about sun exposure, which I had pretty much been ignoring, probably to some level of personal peril. I had not realized it was discontinued, so I had been taking it to this day. I was about out, so she called to check on it. That is how I found out.

The day is good, in spite of all things ponderous, problematic, and left on the list whether missed, done, or yet to do. I really am enjoying this new found life. I think I am going to continue to push on those edges until I break down the fences, walls, and other imposed boundaries, again. There are real limits, at my current level of skill and condition, but these too can be stretched and those change. I will just have to try and maintain some of the humility, patience, and kindness I have gained. Just perhaps, Mr. Dowd, Mr. Crowley, Iron Man, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and myself can become whole without becoming less.

Sleeping with the fish.

Woah, dude, I am wiped. Her house was hot, all day. And, I did some running, fixing, cooking, and washed the dishes as a final gesture. Ah, but she was much sprightlier of mood today too, if still tired and ill of body. Having care when one is ill really is nice, she has done this for me to varying degrees. Supper was good, though in the heat, neither of us wanted seconds. I left her with the remnants, as when I asked she begged. I have plenty to eat and am happy to see her not have to do too much for her next meal. Plus, I know she is getting meat. Foolish girl.

I am a little sore from sitting all day. I am just not used to that anymore! What a weird thing. A few months ago, that is all I did. It is odd how fast a thing can change.

So, a shower tonight; to bed early, with Vivaldi taking care of chamber music; an early rise; morning duties and pleasantries; mass; Tiger Lily to the doctor; and then the rock wall. Of course, I may have to let her win a game of Scrabble tomorrow if the doctor does not take too long. I cannot wait to try out my shoes and begin my life of hanging out. And, I need mass.

Oh, the nurse that visits has been trying to contact me. She got me today, and I said Friday would be fine, but we have yet to work out a time. She was very helpful in the beginning, and I really appreciate the VA for obtaining this service, but I think it is at an end. My meds are working well enough that even should I fall off them (and I will), I will climb back on them. I am having no ill side effects and am really enjoying life. I receive no high, low, or moodiness on the stuff, but I do have enough energy to stay awake and sometimes dig in to both necessity and pleasure. She wants too much information and will not tell me why. I have asked, her answer was untruthful. As well, an important document disappeared from my place, with only two having access. One of them acted “funny” right about that time. The other has access much more often and it did not happen in the two years I have had the document. I do not care for lies or capers by leftists. The deal is done, just a matter of finalizing the paperwork then flushing.

I just do not have enough money to even check out belts right now. But my pants are seriously problematic. The shorts I have been wearing have an inner tie cord, so I can adjust them, even if they do look funny, they stay on. My belts are to their last notches and just will not hold, so I am going to have to figure something out. Ah, rope! It worked for Jethro, and we do have a little in common. Though, I am not a prettyboy. At least he was handy and straight too though. Hmm, or was it only Elly May who wore the rope belt. What a babe. Oh, and Jeanie! And, oh, Samantha! Woah, sleep is going to be hard.

A pleasant day with the pauper Queen.

I was able to help the lady out today. I surprised her a little by getting to a repair she needed the day after she asked. When we had been together, it did take quite some time for me to get on a task. Then again, she always had more tasks than I could manage and I was rarely at my best, except when in school at times (then I was busy with school). And, I did prepare her evening meal, every night save few as well as dishes every few days if she did not get to them. I had all the tools and parts I needed. I left a few extra parts for that type of job in case she or I needed to do similar in the future. I had finished and was about to leave her in peace, when she asked if I would play a game of Scrabble or three.

I had nothing else planned except rock climbing. It was early afternoon, so the proposition seemed reasonable as I believed I could be out in time for training. And, I was trying to help her decide to go the doctor’s office while I was doing the repair. I thought a little more time to add in my yes vote to her vocal thinking might be worthwhile. We played three games, all very close, and I won each. At this point, I almost wonder if she is toying with me. She usually wipes me out if the game is close near the end. She knows all of the little words when the board is closed and difficult. Then again, as I returned to my apartment at 18:00, it was cool comparatively, yet it was 79 F in my apartment. She does not have a way to measure the temperature at her place, but I will guess that it was into the 90’s F. And, she is ill, if a bit better. Her fever broke in the night, though she still feels pretty ragged. I will not be making the climb tonight, as I made a further deal with the little Queen. By the way, I did help guide her to making a doctors appointment tomorrow. I do feel better. It is probably nothing, but she can stay sick for weeks if she does not care for some of these things.

She was quite hungry, but was not sure what she wanted. I am hungry, but cannot go for anything too bizarre in this heat. So, after some negotiations, and failures to find a solution, I let out that I still had a pan of enchiladas, the meat being two parts ground turkey to one part ground beef. She had shared in the first pan, though had only said it was ok. Today the same ok food is fantastic. Plus, she wanted gazpacho. I would have made that myself to save on expense, but I reminded her that there are no fresh tomatoes yet. Saddened by the realization, I suggested we use some of my mother’s salsa. That too was a big hit. Ah, so the deal is done. I stopped in the Coop to purchase active bread yeast, but also some fresh spring lettuce for the meal and returned to the cave to bake the enchiladas. When that is cooling, I will hike to Hy-Vee for fresh flour and some other bread ingredients. By the time I return, the enchiladas should be cool enough to transport. I had better take the sour cream, as I doubt if flower girl has such.

It is time to head to the store.

The morning yawns, and I notice.

Wow was I bat guano tired. Still, I did not get to sleep until 04:00 I believe. I awoke right away, with the first beep (of the second alarm) 08:30 anyway. First thing, I begin thinking about last night. I was a little touchy feely, dang. Yeah, I suppose there will be changes. And, I guess I really do feel mostly alone here, but that is usually fine. I am pretty sure I do not want to fit in. I would rather be plucked out of the line-up by the communists as a hard smart worker than to live like the rest. The rest really do just as little as possible while expecting a star for their work in spite of having praiseworthiness only for being mediocre, just like everybody else. Yeah, I’ll pass on those mashed potatoes I do believe. Although, my lady friend fits there. I guess the sad part is that she does not have to, mostly. Then again, as she ages, she diminishes. And, that is sad to watch in anyone. Ok, so I have a bit of grip on all that.

In my fogs, I probably never do get a grip on those things. I am perpetually too tired to work them out, in too much pain to touch salve or massage any specific physical or mental sores, so I languished, depending on a short memory to get me through.

As for the question, should I write; I do not care. It is what I do, and for the reason I stated. I will write, play, sing, or whatever. If I change something, I will just privatize the activities should I find the world rejects my offerings, so long as there is a good reason for the rejection. If it does not like my conclusions, tough unless it can show that they are groundless. Good luck with that. Singing, well, ok, yeah, I will keep that under my hat and out of your delicate rap listening ears. Oh, fine, I admit it. I sing like one would expect an ogre to sing. But I will climb those trees and rocks, I will fish and hunt, I will go off-roading. If that is too much for the delicate planet, I guess we will die. But, before you ponder the sty in my eye, check the log in yours, Al Gore. Shut it.

Gee, a little sleep and a decent wake up call really helps get the thing reorganized. I like this. A little more classical music this morning, though I should put some other things in. I have played most out. However, with Vivaldi, I can not get enough. Or, at least, have not. I left it to play for my leisure while I slept, and it was good. I do believe it helped me to rise this morning, soundly. I love it when words come together in a crux, answering several and varied questions or adding relevant matter. When three or more answer and matter questions and thoughts can be summed and qualified by a single word of various meanings, I know joy. In spite of that, I despise the study of English. Too much for too little, and usually a study of topics for which I have no interest. Either one can use the tool or not, specific studies at this time, for me, are wasted. Yes, that is one of my little joys. And, I will repeat it. It is the little joys, folks. Live for them, they may be all we get for very long spells. Mine do sustain me if needs be, in any case.

Hmmm, I will check on the Obfusticattor in a bit, before noon anyway. She may be better, need food, want a drive to her doctor’s door, or wish to play a game or three. I will probably get to mass today. I might go fishing, though I will save most of my energy for the wall tonight. Oh, yesterday while I was dinking, and reading k’s postings, I decided to take some pictures of Rocky. My camera is only 5gigs, but it does have a flower zoom of sorts. Now, I am a complete camera novice, and I am not sure how to post pictures, so bear with me. I will be working on this today, along with several old tasks that I never could remember long enough to solve before. I am looking for a particular type of solution to my picture posting process, so that may take a bit. The day looms large before me, and it is good.

A time for everything, but a place for everyone?

I think I will try to sleep the night. Nothing seems to be working the other way and I am quite tired. Perhaps I will be able to rise with my alarm tomorrow. This is frustrating, but not debilitating. If you saw Galaxy Quest and remember the scene where they are taking the ship out of the space port, you will remember how the ship began going off course, and the captain among others, began leaning their heads as if to fix it, yet nothing worked, and with all the noise and concern, no one and nothing was hurt. That is how it seems here. Just off kilter a bit, sleep wise. The other aspects of life are fine.

The evening went well with my lady friend. She was actually quite good company. We played two games, and shared some coffee. As I was getting coffee while she prepared the board for play, I noticed her dishes were few and her kitchen kempt, so I left things as such. As I was initially preparing to leave she prepared for sleep. She always sleeps in pajamas, and was in them in any case, because of her condition. She requested the thermometer, so I put off leaving. Her near 100 F temperature remains. She was comfortable enough to sleep, and now tired from the games. So, after finishing her reading, I collected the device, sterilized it, and returned the various items to their proper places. I assured she needed no supplies from the grocery or drug store. Having done that, I was packing to leave when she requested a few minor adjustments to her quarters; a few windows needed to have their curtains parted; one window was closed, but needed a certain specific item to be kept open or to be left alone as she commanded; the item was found in spite of her turning the lights off in her nest and it being past sundown, and so this too was done; the glass of the screen section needed opened of course it’s screen replaced to a secure position, and then it’s curtain adjusted to allow air flow. She then suggested I might be asked to take her to the doctor’s office on the morrow should her condition persist. I assured her that she would have priority and that I would leave my cel on and plugged in near my bed, should I not rise I always seem to wake to a call. I believe I left her in good stead, and a bit happier, if not healthier.

As I returned, I saw that the neighbors had not returned to the hospital. A downstairs light came on as I was returning to the cave. I try not to look in on people, day or night though so I can say nothing more. I prefer to think of windows as tools for the occupants only. Doors alone may allow the use of an abode’s windows, should that door be opened and entrance permitted for that particular individual. When I entered my house, my pants felt a bit odd, so I investigated further. Wow, I had been thinking I was dropping from a 42 to a 40 waist, but I am thinking that this is more like a 38. I cannot afford this now. Well, maybe a few belts. It would be stopgap, unless I drop even more. I am nervous and excited about this development.

While responding to a few commenters tonight, I went through some kind of emotional storm, perhaps two. I am still not quite over it. Shaken and stirred, I think, perhaps on the rocks as well. Sometimes a thought or a comment just cuts right to the quick of my soul. Perhaps a weakness to one lead to a weakness for the other. Perhaps I am just vulnerable to both of these topics. I just cannot say for certain.

The first was a happenstance reaction to a response I was making to a fun comment. I do realize, more now, that even in the depths of my fogs and sleep, I lead a rich life and ponder many things. I have touched on topics before, and remember them not at all until something brings the memory, maybe the emotions that belonged with it, and perhaps whatever else from that past time forth with it. This happened, and I see some of the depths of my despair with this one. That hurt, a lot. It still does. I am not sure how to manage these things now that I cannot forget. Nor am I sure how to manage this particular item itself. I think I am alone, in many ways. I have always been alone. No matter who is with me, no matter how close in proximity, no matter how strong the love. I cannot even begin to talk to most people. I say words but there is seemingly no understanding. It would be akin to you describing a rose in immaculate detail and having the other person only receive the idea of ‘red’. I cannot really say if this is my failure, theirs, or just the way it is. Tears have and will come and go on this one. At least when I was more crippled, I fit in better, my tongue, memory, and facilities were nicely clipped, like the bird in the cage. And, I could forget.

The second hit came with a mere question, albeit a powerful one to me. Why do you write? The echo chamber just exploded in a cacophony of “why, why, write, why do you, why write”, on and on it went. Was it a question or an answer, a doubt, a fear, a disparagement. Whatever it was, was it his or mine? Whoever was to posses whatever it was, what is the reason behind it. Perhaps reeling from the first blow, I was unable to process this properly. Perhaps depth or dimension is beyond my capacity to process. Perhaps I should not write.

The answer is; because I do, that is all. And, I am happy with that answer. I just do not know. Should I write?

Then, perhaps, I am just weary. Sleep calls and I follow it’s call. There is tomorrow.

A busy day for having seemingly done nothing.

I will not be fishing this evening. But I am quite happy in spite of it. My neighbor’s wife is about ready to deliver her baby. They went to the hospital for the first half of the day but are returning home. Yet, they are not finished. They seem to hope to return to the hospital for the delivery this evening. Can you believe, the husband apologized to me for not contacting me sooner? No, no, no, I told him. First, the hospital interferes with cel phone use, second, that he remembered to call in that situation at all was excellent in my book as he was busy with the hospital, tending his other children, reordering his work, school, and extended family business and life, and third I know he must take care of what is in front of him, his wife and soon to be born son, those last being the most important. Though tending his sanity and nerves would not hurt. He sounded pretty up-beat and relaxed though, which probably saves all a good deal of hassle. I am not sure how the misses feels right about now. And, it would be my guess that not knowing might be best for the time being. Perhaps someday I will know a bit more, albeit in my own way. They have been here before, they are experienced, but somehow I doubt if it always feels like that. I am sure there are always new little or big things.

After that call, I decided to try and talk to my Mom. I succeeded. She was well, driving a lady friend and one of that friend’s son’s employees back from a distant job site, and enjoying the day. She too had tried to contact me through last week, though had also left no messages. I left a message yesterday, which she received. She, having returned late, just went on to bed with the plan of calling me this evening. She will do so anyway, since she was driving, our conversation was short. I do feel better. She sounded well, and in cheer. All good, all well, soothed.

I have been looking for my good thesaurus for days now, and my little brown book (or some book named or nicknamed similarly if not exact) detailing English usage. I found my little thesaurus and my research writing little book, but neither of the books which started the search. Since I am writing, I would like to improve my skills, vocabulary, and style. Well, I will search more later.

Tiger Lily called and asked about a thermometer. All I have, currently, is a Hy-Vee special. It is decidedly slow, not altogether accurate, and I do not recommend them. She decided against that. She then asked if a rectal mercury thermometer works orally. I think it does, and said as much. However, I suggested the flavor might be a little different. She has no sense of my humor, and grumbled it off. She seems to think that she does not have strep throat or a cold, but more like pneumonia. As for me, I think she is tired and is dealing with exposure. But it deserves some care. She is bored, and is not going to work tonight in her condition, so she wondered if I would come over and play games since I am not fishing as had been planned. Certainly, she is good company, and a mean Scrabble player, so it should be fun, though I just say, yes.

My landlord stopped by and knocked. The other side of my duplex has been vacant for a month or two now (I think). He has a new renter though. A modern couple, man and girlfriend. She has a little girl, though I do not know if the child is his. He is a student, accounting from my understanding. She works at a respectable business. And , they have marriage in their future, as it was relayed to me. Hmm, I think that should be fine. I have not met them yet, so this is untested. I am hoping they are rather more family oriented than loosely associated, as if so, they will fit into this little, if shrinking, part of the neighborhood. Still, I hold my breath a bit. I will be looking for them, perhaps the 6th of next month. And, should I see or hear them arrive, I will at least offer them a hand with the big things, boxes, and such should they desire any assistance. I might have to have something prepared for them to eat as well. Hmm, I will think on a menu in the meantime. Oh, BREAD! It would be nice to have bread. I will have to practice. Perhaps several of my neighbors will be getting some loaves if I can crack k's code, well, implement it any way as it is pretty straight forward. What a gal!

Bah, enough. I am off!

Early afternoon pamphlet. No more books(?).

Good morning! I went to bed at about 6:00 am. Slept pretty well, then heard the cel. It was my lady friend, she was hoping I could deliver her to the post office to pick up her mail, as she had put a stop on delivery while she was away. Not right away, perhaps in the early afternoon, she requested, as she was moving slow and had not yet showered. So be it. My alarm was set for 13:30, and I will not be going fishing until 16:00, so this should work and I let her know. Perhaps a goodbye, but certainly more sleep. At 13:00, I wake, goof with a few morning grooming and other tasks, and then decide to post.

No more books! I am not sure what I was eating or drinking, but it was just pushing me right along. Though fun, I think I will shorten my posts and try to add a bit more clarity. Reading some of them, it seems more like abstract art than good writing, or at least I see how that could be the perception. I know what I am talking about, and it is a log or diary of sorts, but if I am going to put it out as a people trap, I really should at least make some sort of effort to more than toss out my thoughts, feelings, and activities like Trump shot off the lists of deeds to be done to his corporate slave wannabes. As I think about it now, too, I may not always remember what was going on. Yes, more brevity and clarity will be the new style.

My gear is ready for fishing. I did not get around to setting my other reels up and preparing them yet. There is still time, and I think I will make a concerted effort to have this done on at least a few of them by 16:00, our departure time. I will be taking my camel back as well. I really like having water. There is enough that with our low activity, we should all be able to have a sip from time to time. The camel back has a bite valve which allows me to drink on the move, a shut-off valve, and a means by which I can remove the bite valve and essentially pour water like a small garden hose. This allows me to share water hygienically. It has also been a boon when I have wanted a splash on my face and hands, when I was being proper. After becoming tired enough, though, and running low on water as well, I decided to just take a mouthful via the bite valve and spit spray my arms, and into my hands for washing my face. I then received a little more to drink, instead of wasting as much.

Another pot of French press is set to go. I have been drinking too much of that, so I think I will end that after today, for a week or two. Back to water, milk, and my decaffeinated tea, as per my doctors request. I may not completely believe him, but he has begun to earn my trust and I am trying to work with him. Prayer helps, faith helps, and fair decent play on my part is essential as well. Have a good day.

Goodnight! *grumble*

The day should be over, but I linger. My candle is glowing and warm, the wax and flame in harmony. I think of the day, the recent days, and the days long past. It is odd how we may overlook the five pound gold nuggets for the little bit of dirt on the treasure. As I mine the past, I find that I am wealthy beyond measure. Most of my losses have been gains, many of my pains provided growth, and much of my folly has been forgiven. There are days to come, trials and tribulations, toil and pain, but I can look forward to these, smiling on them as I smile on those of the past. A little history based precognition along with faith will carry one far I think.

I managed to get the milk. I had to go through the jungle to get it, and in more ways than one. I had locked my back gate, as I was having many unwelcome and shady types wandering through my lawn at all hours of the night. That I can be up at any time, day or night, and started peaking out, and with my size, the difficulty slowed but until I finally locked the gate down it did not end. Well, it has been locked and unused for over a year. And a vine or ten had grown over the gate. I enjoy the vine, and it has it’s own uses, so I did not want to simply cut it. I negotiated it like any fine adventurer might do. Have you ever seen a bear play limbo? That is probably what it looked like. I completed the task, lowering about to mid thigh backward, and through in some odd tangle of manflesh, then I promptly locked the gate and headed to the store.

Wow, what I had indicated about the neighborhood going to pot I finally got to see very close up. Two thugs, with their various gold teeth, their customary odd gaits, definite attitude, along with their blond blue eyed yet corn-rowed girlthing walked parallel to me, going in the opposite direction. These are the type if you see on your property or heading your way somewhere they should not be, you get a shotgun, then call the police. They did not like me, and it was mutual. Nothing personal here, mostly, just business. Oil and water, they were definite floaters (needing flushed). There were others, but after the Crips, Bloods, or whatever, they were minor. It was sad to see the good people that lived in the area cower and scurry for safety, and yes, I can sense them too. Thanks to the local voters, we will be getting a lot more of the stereotypes. Thank God for .45’s. Those 9 mm’s they carry, and the way they shoot, hehe, I am not sure if it would be better or worse for them if they hit me whether I am armed or not. I am a weapon. Funny, this county only allows them to carry though. Denying conceal carry to all but the city council, and thugs (what is the difference here?). As the police certainly would not wish to hassle such fine upstanding gangsters.

I get to the store, nobody dies, and I head to the dairy section. Drats, they do not have my favorite milk. I like A&E, and I am pretty serious about it. The flavor is excellent, for pasteurized, and to me. The company adds a freshness seal under and along with the cap. It costs a little more, but lasts a good deal longer. So, I go to my next favored. It is “hormone free”, like I care. Well, actually I do! I am used to hormones at this point, especially if it goes to flavor. As well, the bottle says right on it that the FDA finds no differences in the milk. And, it is a good deal more expensive. Still, it is what I can get, it is the next in line in my flavor category, and it comes in GLASS BOTTLES (a true joy in some part of my hoary heart!). Some dietary goods I do not skimp on, milk, meat, and butter for sure. So, I grab and go. As I am leaving the store, an attractive lady takes note of me. She almost approaches and speaks. Her eyes are smiling and something else, a kind of approval, almost a recognition though I am sure I would remember such a woman, so no. She takes me in, hiking boots and woolen socks, cotton cargo shorts, poplin shirt, and on to the top of my head. And looks again to take the whole picture in as if seeing a brother, friend, or friendly past love by surprise after a long separation, and approving of a new look. It was an odd thing, but a pleasant oddity. I had no ground on which my sensibilities allowed me to tread, so I merely smiled, nodded pleasantly, and ambled back to my cave. Sometimes the sun just shines, it did at that moment and that moment will be a warming memory for some time.

Now, back to the fence I march. I really do not walk as such, I move. I slow for pleasant company’s sake, for security reasons, or rarely just because. Hmm, nice, slow times are fond memories, occasions, like finding a rose in the middle of nowhere, blossoming as if just for you. Rare and special. I can almost smell the perfumes of the various joys Father made and scattered to be found, to remind, and to please. The neighbor ladies are out and wave. I wave back as I angle toward my yard. As I get to the gate, I realize I will need to take care with the negotiation, as my pack I wore for the task of handsfree transport of my buy is now heavier and contains glass, glass beside glass more to the point. I close on the gait, unlock it, and begin a careful limbo like maneuver, safely out of view of the women. Well, ok, I am doing pretty good at first. Urhm, the ladies have walked to a position where they can view my exploits or I had misgauged the angle of their vision on my approach vector. Beyond, my pack gets stuck as I get halfway through, with one vine dropping ahead of me and below my limbo to add to the fun. So, I dance and skip to no avail. Finally, I slip out of the pack with great care and ease it to a controlled grip, all while still in my limbo maneuver. I am sure they had to have a chuckle (I would have, I am). Finally I complete the maneuver and am able to begin loosening the back pack from it’s snag. This I do swiftly in my new found freedom of motion and angle of attack. So much for the super man image.

I had not talked to the ladies in a while, so I head their way. They were waving, again, even before I decide to do so, which I take to mean I am welcome and invited by the way the wave is performed. I, though not truly shy, try to be unassuming. I stand on some old formalities, from some unknown source. An invitation is almost always necessary. A best friend asked if the invitation needed to be formal and in gold lettering, without even question it’s necessity. And being cryptic as I am, I said “Yes, and with signed delivery if you please” to great laughs. That was in highschool.

We have a little pleasant conversation, catching up on bits of this and that. They are pretty women, and friendly if often quite busy, each having three or more children, husbands, full lives, and one with a son almost ready to begin pestering his soon to be, presently pregnant, mother with his little baby boy joys. hehehe I guess I am prejudiced in some things. It is the small joys, as I keep saying. During the conversation, one of the ladies compliments my newly formed goatee. It’s a proper full one, going from nostrils to the chin and neck nexus, and then from about the middle of my eye to middle of my other eye. I thank her, but have a question. What if I shaved part of it off? And she says, just do not shave off the lower part. She believes that is a bit, well, funny. I am not exactly sure what she means, so in my practiced diplomatic way, I suggest that, yes, mustached men may easily make my gaydar go off. Apparently these ladies had never heard the term, and one sort of chuckles and repeats the term a few times, part questioning, part thinking, and then part chuckling in realization. No, she says, you would never be taken as ‘that’. Good and all, but I think to dig more holes, since I did not sink too far in this one! I say, in this town, one must take care. I have been, urhm, approached by men and I did not see it coming. Uncomfortable, I say. It is best to just be businesslike and not be too open if, as a man, you do not know the other man you are dealing with here. She agrees, and repeats part of that, while the other wife calls her husband so that we may talk. I think they have had enough male sense and sensibility for the moment.

My neighbor arrives and we begin chewing the fat. As I had written previously, we had been planning a boating event last week. But I had just not been up to it. It seems he had his hands full in any case and was probably pleased I had not contacted him, as he would have felt bad about having to say no. His sump pump failed during the last storm and they had water to deal with and a sump pump to fix. And, he had needed to take care of some of his schooling (or he was being quite diplomatic, he is a sharp fellow). As unfortunate as that was, I was relieved that neither of us had let the other down. Good, says I, so what about the future? He says, well, there is this, that, and the other day, any of which I could be free. Hmmm, tomorrow sounds swell. So, I am on for a fishing expedition, probably with pop, two boys, a boat, and lots of gear. Ha, see, was not that easy? We talk a bit more, but he must get in and finish a few odds and ends, and I need to go too, so we part with our customary hand-shake or nod.

I refrigerate the milk immediately. This organo type stuff does not last well. Then, I start thinking I am hungry. I get on the machine, and continue to ponder a meal. A few hours later, I decide it is time. Not so fast, says that nagging conscience. Do the dishes first, and when you are done, cook the grains you had indicated you would while cooking your meal. I negotiated well by caving completely. Still, the rib eye was worth the wait. I tried a new type of salt while cooking the steak. I used kosher salt, after hearing good things about it. I put just a pinch on each side, and into the hot (griddle type) pan it went. I started the millet barley mix as well. While letting the steak rest, I pour a glass of milk and set the table. I then plate the steak, table it, seat myself, say Grace, and finger my implements. I was just about to set my silverware aside in order to acquire the salt shaker, but then reconsidered. This was a new salt, why not give it a chance, I ponder. Oh, my word. That very scant salting had permeated the beef perfectly. No extra salt was necessary, nor was it too salty. Beautiful, a new find that works as advertised or better. I will have to obtain a salt pig in order to more easily use this find, as it does not shake well from my standard salt shaker and I do not wish to potentially damage this salts nature by using a salt grinder (plus, I have been eyeing salt pigs for a while, wishing for some real reason to make purchase of said).

Actually, I should add that after enough exposure, and though I do not approve, the queer crowd is not a bother so long as they do not present their problem in such a way that I may not avoid it. I spit sometimes, but I do not spit on other people. I cough, but again, I do not cough on other people. All I ask is the same courtesy. I realize this is their playground, but is decorum that dated of a concept? That even goes for straight couples. Hands were I can see them and tongues in their proper places, please. Really, if it is that necessary, find a private place and tend the problem. And as the lady said, I do not look like ‘that’, so assume not and be right once in your life. Well, two rants to maybe five rambles, not so bad.

As I complete this, I think I shall do a final bit of washing and food tending, then grumble my way off to bed in spite of being fed, satisfied, and looking forward to a new day and a new week. Sometimes a guy just needs to grumble to keep in practice I think.

Hmm, I wonder how accurate this is to the real thing?

If this is at all accurate, then government is the spoof.



For the record, it said I had pussy once, knife twice, and dead three times. Pussy was of the cat type, mostly. Knife was regarding kitchen utensils, I think. And I have been dead three times so it works out, I do not care how I used the word "dead".

Oops, just messed up my ratings!

Update:

Yes, the rating is now PG-13. But they added hurt once and changed it to only indicated death once.

Doh!

Update, part deux:

Still PG-13, but they are thinking about calling the Family Circle and might not talk to me again. It is getting racy here, apparently Ha!

Another day, another book, I think I will have to stop eating beans?

The soup was delivered. I drove to the Co-op and gave her a call, letting her know what the three soup de jour were. She picked quickly, then ended the call. I had to call back to learn what size of container she desired. Large, as usual, she says. I load the containers, pay the fine, and walk free to my vehicle. She answers the door a little weak and tired looking and sounding.

I ask if she would mind sharing some of the soup, so that I might then go right on out and hike rather than returning to the cave for a bite. Plus, soup would be liter fare than I have available. Well, she thinks, sure she says. But she admonishes me to remove my boots and to figure out how to accommodate my meal seating arrangement. Certainly, I assure her. She, while I remove my boots, removes herself to her kitchen area and begins to pluck the bowls and spoons for her very rare guest and herself. We discuss a few things, about the trip, yesterday, and the foods we are exploring. She finishes ladling the soup and decides to direct my facilitations for the meal and passes the instructions to me. We both take our places, and I am just about to ask her if she wishes to be included in the grace, but before I have more than a moment to ponder, she springs up and asks me about the same. We, as I do with her, mother, or any guests who know me, hold hands and I lead the simple prayer. Once complete, she returns to her place and we begin to consume.

The soup was fine. It was a tomato, chicken, steak, sausage, well spiced affair, with several vegetables. Though watery, the textures of the meat and tomatoes with the hot but not lasting spice made it just right. A little more conversation intervened the beginning and finish of our breaking of bread, so to speak. The conversations through out the visit were light, sporadic, and soft in nature as she is ill and I wished her to be more at peace. After finishing, and I finished first for a change, I arose to place my implement and large soup cup in the sink. She finishes as I am doing this, so I collect her spent dishes and set them in their place.

I notice she has dishes, so I ask if she would mind if I did these few things and straightened up a bit. There was surprise in her voice as she said she had no objections. She does this at my place, from time to time, albeit as a form of payment for using my laundering facilities, which saves her a fair coin. As I am doing this, she begs my attention in providing one of her popsicles, a coconut flavored one, for her dessert. I do this and remove the wrappings and dispose of those. I finish with the dishes washing, drying, then putting away all but the camping plastic silverware as she prefers these to air dry. I take care of her coffee pot while I am at it, clean the cutting board and the area a bit, and then speak to her a bit more before heading out.

I decide to drive out to my usual, to this point, hiking trail. There are several people, perhaps even others I cannot yet see, so I think about other spots. Realizing it is a Sunday and many will be out today, that my funds are limited and my gas is therefore limited, I decide to return to my cave.

On the way home, I decide to try and find a shorter and perhaps more relaxed regular rout. So, using what I know and what I think I remember, I begin taking a different set of paths. I set upon a way that is looking perfect. I have to turn around a time or two, as I arrive at places I do not think are favorable or pass a turn which I believe might prove to be more favorable. Sure enough, I strike on a path that is both shorter, less traveled, and quicker to boot I do believe, than those several I had been using up to this point. Ha, but it takes me right through that little secluded campus area.

Now, whether it was chance, whether it is a normal function, whether the locals actually read my blog and worry, or whether someone there spotted my vehicle and called it in, I will never know, but after driving through and heading back on the last stretch of my new path, and shortly after leaving the quiet intellectual secular cloister, I see a patrol car heading the opposite direction and back toward the secluded campus. He eyed me fairly closely as we passed, though, so I have my suspicions. If they are watching me, their eye is not on the ball. All I can say is, “Duck”.

I was going to buy milk on the way home. The Q.O.D. had returned some of the money I had spent on the soup, while almost tearfully, and a bit in a panic, realized she owed me for this, that, and the other thing. A few dollars mean more to her then me, even when I am broke. So, I assured her it was fine. Whenever and what she could pay. Though as I reflect, I will probably forgive most of it. I will keep enough of the debt and favor that she strives a little and does not become complacent. Anyway, perhaps I will go out for milk now. Two gallons a week is my goal. It has kept my bones and teeth so very strong that even through negligence, accident, and hard treatment at times, I have yet to break a bone. Oh, and the taste. I see documentaries where Africans mix milk and blood (cattle blood and milk, but it used to be the blood of enemies until Christianity crashed their party, for good or ill). I can think that would be the only thing better than pure milk. I would buy unpasteurized milk, if I could. Hmm, rather than pull the X’ter out, I might just wander over to the store. It is only a block or three, and I have a minor old pack that would allow hands free transport of my white honey.

I am not sure what to do today, with the traffic and crowds. If it would rain, I might go out and do the trail as I am almost assured to be alone and I am well equipped for such eventualities. It is not that I am anti-social, truly. It is just that in certain places, I go to let out and be myself. Sometimes I see it as my path, but other times I see it as their path, whoever they may be. It offers some perspective and allows me to think more deeply about how to treat others while I am on our path. I am a bit tired, but that is to be expected with my varied sleep the last few days. It would be nice to get the body a bit of a work out so we might sleep together tonight and wake up refreshed tomorrow morning, in time for a shower, shave, breakfast, my menu of blogs, news, and tinkering, then to church, and the climbing wall to top it off. Let me think on it while I retrieve my milk.

I have not been able to make telephone contact with my Mum. This always bums me out a bit. It can be days or weeks, but when I feel the need to check on her, share my day and news, or just hear her voice, it is time sensitive, stressing, and maybe a bit distressing to not be able to find her. Her battery may be down while her charger is somewhere else, she travels to her love’s place as her and his needs and her moods dictate. She is also a busy woman, and purposefully stays that way while she is hale. It is a good thing that I cannot find her, a good sign most surely. But knowledge does not cut through emotion, so I stew and fret.

I really do have a wonderful little life. My needs are handily met, my wants can be and are being supplied with a little work, planning, and sacrifice, and I am finding great satisfaction in that endeavor. I have a wonderful imagination and sense of humor for my own consumption, since I have few to share it with. My circle of friends grows, though, here and in the world, as I expand the boundaries of my world in real terms and in terms of interests and activities. My family may be coming together again shortly. My thoughts are clear, my memory is very functional, my chivalry is alive and handsome and only becoming more alive and true with time. Romance is something I am enjoying, with many women, in a chaste and joyful way. Yes, an elder blossom, a young girl, a woman, and even my Mother receives this chaste sweet sort of affection in her own special way. As well, I am becoming a strong and proud freeman, a silverback in my particular world. And more, I know it. I cherish this life. Even should you hear me cuss, rage, shout, doubt, and fear, know too, I now associate with the Source of Wisdom in such a way as to overcome my emotions and doubts, I have the bravery to face my fears, toils, and failings, and I have the strength to live and die rightly. I only hope He is pleased with His work.

What, really, what was that about? I do not know.

I cannot remember when I finally went to bed. Sometime between 04:00 and 05:00 maybe. I awoke at 18:00, noted the hour, and rolled back into bed with nary a thought process running or an inclination for such, then awoke finally at 23:30. Well, we both know this is not true, now. It was actually 06:00 and 11:30. Weird, I seem to be doing pretty good on just a few hours of sleep, but I cannot seem to get past that little bit of sleep to reset my day and night schedule. I get up just as well now, two days running, and at the same times, as I was getting up with 8 to 12 hours of sleep. Actually, this is better. Headaches seem to have vanished and I am waking with a bit more energy. Folly, I say.

No dishes were done, not millet and barley was produced. I just goofed and then collapsed. I had a wonderful time with the music though. Another stout or dozen would have been great. Other beer would have been fine. Some scotch would have been out of this world. But no, I have had beer recently on several occasions, and I enjoyed what I had. I left it there. It is at least as fun to miss it now as it was to indulge more fully at one time. Being broke is never an issue, as there are ways to deal with that, should I truly want. Or, at least it seems there probably is a way.

I thought she had not called as she was too sick to go camping tonight. That is what I expect anyway. But the time has not come or gone for that, so I will get to see. It looks like it might be storming, again, tonight. Still, that I did not miss an potential opportunity is comforting. However, I did miss church. I would like to kick myself, but I know this does not help. I really am frustrated with my current situation. I am so close, I actually am doing quite well in that I am fully awake when I am awake, I am awake for many more hours at a time full days really, my blood pressure and pulse are good, my “diabetes” is what they call “remarkably controlled”, and my life is coming back on line. But with this sleep issue, my life still is not quite my own. I cannot trust that on a given day I will be awake at the right time or have enough energy to do what is needed or even what I want. So close, so very close. I see my doc on the 29th, so we will see what we can do. And, as is, I can still be getting out and galloping paths, fishing, wall climbing, and getting to church when I can and so long as it is not scheduled too closely. I know I am almost there, that is what is so darned tooting frustrating.

Boy am I hungry. I think I am going to grab something to toss down my gullet. Have fun, guys and dolls. The real sandman only arrives once (for most), and you cannot know when that will be. Though might I suggest you use some discretion in your reverie?

Breakfast is off for a bit. The Queen needs soup. She does sound terrible and I promised to nurse her should she have need. No camping trip tonight I can tell. With the weather and my frustration, it probably is not a bad thing. I think I will try egg à la coque when I return.

A minor task completed.

I left to pick up the Queen in plenty of time, but without my cel. I drove to what I had thought would be the pick up spot. I could not remember if she had detailed where I was to pick her up, though I had thought it was to be where I had deposited her. She said she would be returning sometime between 5:00 pm and 6:00 pm. As 5:30 pm rolled around and no one was arriving, I decided to take the risk of being a bit late by going home to collect the cel. I got home and nary a message or even a call. So be it, I go back to the place I expected to be collecting her majesty.

I then decided to take a risk and call her, hoping her phone was not stuck back in one of her packs. Surely enough though, she answered and informed me that I was correct about the location but that they would not arrive for another 45 minutes to an hour. And she assured me she had indicated her return would be between 5:30 and 6:30 pm. “Oh”, she said, “You are already there waiting?”. Yes, little one. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you”. As for me, I indicated that this was no difficulty. I could just stretch my legs and take in some fresh air. Something from her indicating surprise, and affirmation, and a “See you soon”. Click.

So, true to my word, I got out and strolled. Now, this is not a high security place, but it is a secluded technology research, medical research, and who knows what else part of the University of Iowa. It is very quiet and secluded, actually. Since I am not of a nefarious nature, I head out. I stay away from buildings, on sidewalks where they are provided, and go for decent stretches in singular directions to minimize security referrals, yet I know my nature will draw interest regardless. I am a curious sort and my head is on a swivel, looking here and there, directed by sound and movement when applicable, general interests when not attracted by something. I kept expecting someone to ask what I was doing or who I was. I walk several miles total, first in one direction, then back, then another. I then noticed a few vehicles of the type used for boating adventures drive by seemingly headed in the correct direction, so I decide to head back.

I arrive at the location, but it seems these vehicles were for some other event as they were nowhere in sight. That is fine, I decided I would cool down a bit until she arrives. So I unlock and hop in my vehicle. As soon as I have the windows down and begin relaxing, security arrives. A single patrol car with a single officer cruises in then drives along every rout I took, looking for me I am quite certain. I just watch him. He looks my way exactly once and never approaches my vehicle. Yes, eggheads and technology are precious, but can they not do more than call someone? If so, they are dead if one like me but with other priorities visits their little nest. And the officer will not be able to help them, as has been shown. Ha, as I said, I have popcorn. I cannot wait until the various and many “Tantos” in their midst, when the defecation hits the ventilation, turn to them and say, “What do you mean “us”, white man”. Hahahahaha It is the simple joys, people.

Anyway, so the party arrives and disembarks. I spot Tiger Lily in the crowd and head her way. Without more than a glance, she just heads to her gear and points. Her duffle is almost bigger than she is, so I grab that, her chair, and her gear (shovel, clasper, etc) bag, and she takes her pack, and we go back to the X’ter. Everything goes in the back, as it might be muddy and stinky, so I say. Not completely happy with that but not really interested in an argument so long as I do the work, this gets done. Oh, but she needs something out of her pack. She retrieves it to near the front passenger door, finds and takes her desired item, and leaves it by her door for me to restore to the place it had previously resided. Fine, I actually enjoy her antics now that I do not have to live with them full time. Then, she tells me she may be a bit ill. The strain of the week and perhaps river water contamination may have left her with strep throat.

She is very tired, but she wants to go to a restaurant. I say, fine, but I am broke. No problem she adds. Hmm, but she is more tired than that, now, she thinks. Just take her home she says. Are you sure, I ask. Yes, positive. She then talks about a few of the events, with me asking a few questions and truly interested. I enjoy tales, and she tells them fairly well. Then she decides New Pioneer Coop is where I should take her first. She needs coffee for sure, and a few things for this and that. She will get these and go home for a quick meal (minus me) and sleep. Alright, I say. A few more tales the rest of the way into town and to the store. Out she hops and into the store she goes. She is in there for a goodly while, I am in no hurry without a worry today so I barely notice. She comes back with obviously more than what she had indicated was on her shopping list. To your house, she declares. I love the way you do tilapia and salad, which she had purchased, along with three stouts and her other needs. Ah, it brings me no small joy to actually do something that is appreciated. Even more so from this finicky feline.

So, home I go, and supper I begin to produce while she fusses with this or that before eventually settling in to play a computer word game we both play, Bookworm Deluxe. A friend introduced it to us sometime back. Our friend’s high score is about 200-300k, Q.O.D. has gotten to a million now (I am so proud of her, really). While my score languishes at 17 some million for my favored part of the game and 18 some million for my least favored part, oddly. Ha, and they are the English types, our friend received her master(?for education?) in English. They try to say it is not fair, as I have all this time. I say, I made my first million score the fourth time I played. Girls and their rules when they do not win. Immediately she asks for air of some kind, preferably outside air I believe I heard. While she is settling in and taking care of that which she wishes to offer care, she begs for some vinegar, apple vinegar being preferable. In the fridge, I direct. She gargles some of the stuff to ease her soar throat. Oh, and some classical music, she intones. The windows come up and then I begin fiddling with the dial on the receiver. No classical music can I find, not a consonance or chord, neither fiddle nor oboe. So, I turn on the DVD player and out pours some of my other favored sounds. Vivaldi, Albinoni’s Complete oboe collection, Mozart, and other productions I had previously been enjoying began spilling out and filling my humble cave. Oh, she says, then asks if it is that radio station. She always seems a little surprised that an ogre actually listens to classical music. This in spite of the fact that it was I who led her to begin her own collection, giving her parts of mine and helping her buy some, before she went on to buy even more on her own. *laughs* *sighs* The life of a monster, let me tell you.

Anyway, she was happy with the meal. I too enjoyed, but the stout was my favorite of the offerings. I will have to let one commenter know that he has good taste, even if I still prefer my beers. I sure would not pass up a stout, might even buy one should the fiddle be playing the right tune on some future night. She bought and brought watermelon to the table when I had started setting our places. After the rest had been consumed, save the finishing of the stouts, she flashed her sad puppy eyes and lowered her bottom lip and asked if I would cut it up for her. At first, I thought she meant just to cut her a slice. No, she really did want me to cube her portion of watermelon. Well, I can do that with less than a thought, and I did. She did feel a little special, and completely satisfied. But, it was time to go. So, we grabbed her groceries (some needed the freezer, some needed the fridge, so they had all been brought in). As well, and sadly, she took the extra stout. Ha, tricky girl. While we had supped, we spoke of the foods we were each exploring. She is trying millet and something else, but was curious about millet and barley. So, I says to the she beast, why do you not have me cook some of this. I have plenty of time and am curious as well. I have plenty of rice and beans prepared and on hand as well, so mixing for the correct proteins should be easy. She concurs.

On the way home we made another stop at New Pioneer (Coop). She sent me off to find organic lemons (nasty looking, and they do not last, but it is her nickel, urhm, dime) and organic apple vinegar while she was supposed to be trying to get a refund for a purchase she did not make the previous visit, a 99 cent cookie. She decided organic apple vinegar was necessary henceforth, in spite of my offer to pack her off with the remnants (most of the bottle) of my (decidedly non-organic) apple vinegar . She also grabbed some millet for me at the store. She, I swear, had indicated she wanted 3 lemons. I got them but there seemed to be one too many for her, but it would do she thought. *laughs* And the apple vinegar I brought was too large (so, she got a smaller (and more expensive per ounce) jug). Then, back to her duplex we went. I unloaded for her, and as usual, she was in the way and wondered why I did not place her gear where she had indicated (and where she was standing). *laughs* Did I say I really enjoy this? I do. Proof is in the pudding and whatnot. So, settled though fidgeting around her outside plants and this and that, I am about to leave, when I remember she was to give me some barley to mix with the millet. I get that and go.

Sometime during the events, I asked her if she would like to travel a bit this summer, and offered to pay half the gas and pack her kayak on my vehicle so we could both get out a bit more, even if only for half days. She seemed quite enamored with the idea. Beyond, she thinks we will go camping tomorrow evening to test the tent I bought last year on her request (she will probably buy if off me if she likes it), cook out, and spend the night out. Sounds like it might be a fun summer. Who knows, she might even give me another chance at canoeing, though this time we would have to weight her end a bit. I have enough iron weights of sufficient and varied mass to do the trick just right. Still, I am not so sure she is of a mind to do such a thing. Unlike me, she hates swimming, even if she looks darn cute wet and red faced. I think she would go out more and alone, but she is afraid, and of many things, out there. Her idealism shatters where serious reality cannot be negotiated, and this is one of those places. She does, I do believe, trust me to be excellent security.

Well, now to do some dishes, finish (as if I ever really could) listening to the music, and see if I can either settle down or try a real overnighter. Oh, I think I will cook the millet and barley too. All food makes me curious. I am still seeking a place to buy the needed very fresh supplies for a full tête de veau meal, tripe for some of my already favored cuisine, kidney, sweetmeats and a few other odds and ends. All in time, I suppose. I have also heard squirrel brain is a treat but I know where to get those myself.

I should mention, writing while listening to lively classical music could result in a book. Your mileage may vary.