.
.
Yeah, you. You who have been reading here, in very unusual numbers, looking for signs. I have some signs for you, beside what I accidentally fed you.
Saturday, April 5, 2014
I really, truly, hate...
.
.
sorting things. Yes, I did get a chair out there. Yes, I spent as much time as I could, sorting, tossing, even creating a pile for those things I want to consider a bit longer. When nothing has an exact place, however, deciding where to put things is just plain annoying. Still, that is what I intend to do. I just hope the muscles that un-cross my eyes get stronger with a workout. This is the only sort of task that absolutely bores me. Staying focused is terribly difficult. I doubt if I got an half hour in. It is what I could do and remain conscious.
I am pulling a few things for the upcoming trip. And keeping an eye on a few other things. Tools weren't terribly necessary, last time. Still, a small set is always good to take on any kind of a cross-state, or longer duration trip. And there are a few other things to consider. Mostly food, sleeping items, clothes, and water, though. I think 2.5 gallons, per day, is quite enough. That will leave 2.5 extra gallons, considering the event is five days and the trip can be easily made in a one day drive. Not much food is needed, and three sets of clothes, with maybe an extra type of two of those sets... Fresh unders are the things to keep up on. Of course, I have some that wash easily and dry fast, so really only three of those even. I will probably put everything I am taking in the very back of my vehicle. No rack carrier, no back seat needing lowered, only the bike will need to be added to the outside. I'm not even sure that is necessary, or functional, at this event, being so small. Still, it could come in handy. It's a lot faster than walking. Hmm, perhaps warmer clothes, and waterproof gear, though. Not much. I used so little of what I took to BMan.
I ought to get busy and see about the shaving brushes. If I can find those, after some practice honing and stropping, and then the real deal, I can get to shaving. Oh, balloons! I'll grab some of those the next time I am in town. Ten should do, for practice. It's a nervy way to learn, but sure beats a terribly cut face. Now, I didn't do that bad, just compared to store bought disposables. Nicks, it seems, all over. Three to five good ones, a bunch of little ones, and razor burn. The blades weren't sharp enough, and I wasn't stropping, either. Why now? Dunno... No, I'm not going through a 'cutting' phase. I never saw the point in that. If you are going in, go all in. Shotgun, baby. I don't see the point of that, either. Nope, it just crossed my mind. And, perhaps, as I am getting better, I want to conquer this thing. I might retreat but I don't give up on a plan forever. And, I've been busy with other things to this point. Slash! Ah-ah! Gordon? :)
Later.
.
sorting things. Yes, I did get a chair out there. Yes, I spent as much time as I could, sorting, tossing, even creating a pile for those things I want to consider a bit longer. When nothing has an exact place, however, deciding where to put things is just plain annoying. Still, that is what I intend to do. I just hope the muscles that un-cross my eyes get stronger with a workout. This is the only sort of task that absolutely bores me. Staying focused is terribly difficult. I doubt if I got an half hour in. It is what I could do and remain conscious.
I am pulling a few things for the upcoming trip. And keeping an eye on a few other things. Tools weren't terribly necessary, last time. Still, a small set is always good to take on any kind of a cross-state, or longer duration trip. And there are a few other things to consider. Mostly food, sleeping items, clothes, and water, though. I think 2.5 gallons, per day, is quite enough. That will leave 2.5 extra gallons, considering the event is five days and the trip can be easily made in a one day drive. Not much food is needed, and three sets of clothes, with maybe an extra type of two of those sets... Fresh unders are the things to keep up on. Of course, I have some that wash easily and dry fast, so really only three of those even. I will probably put everything I am taking in the very back of my vehicle. No rack carrier, no back seat needing lowered, only the bike will need to be added to the outside. I'm not even sure that is necessary, or functional, at this event, being so small. Still, it could come in handy. It's a lot faster than walking. Hmm, perhaps warmer clothes, and waterproof gear, though. Not much. I used so little of what I took to BMan.
I ought to get busy and see about the shaving brushes. If I can find those, after some practice honing and stropping, and then the real deal, I can get to shaving. Oh, balloons! I'll grab some of those the next time I am in town. Ten should do, for practice. It's a nervy way to learn, but sure beats a terribly cut face. Now, I didn't do that bad, just compared to store bought disposables. Nicks, it seems, all over. Three to five good ones, a bunch of little ones, and razor burn. The blades weren't sharp enough, and I wasn't stropping, either. Why now? Dunno... No, I'm not going through a 'cutting' phase. I never saw the point in that. If you are going in, go all in. Shotgun, baby. I don't see the point of that, either. Nope, it just crossed my mind. And, perhaps, as I am getting better, I want to conquer this thing. I might retreat but I don't give up on a plan forever. And, I've been busy with other things to this point. Slash! Ah-ah! Gordon? :)
Later.
Civilization.
.
.
What is it, exactly? There are many answers to that. A few of them are more correct, more inclusive, but none of them will get it all right. Further, by the time you near the perfection of the definition, you have run clean out of listeners, readers, thought, and reason itself. Basically, however, think of civilization as that which lessens the reliance on brutality to live. It is a spectrum, from primitive to nearly effortless living.
Oddly, both ends of the spectrum are horrors. When people have to fight everything, and everyone, to survive, only the animal might remain. If people have to fight nothing, and no one, and are prevented from competition, there is no challenge to life, something people seem breed to not only tolerate, but need. Mix in that some people are not capable of one, or the other, extreme, and yet still others are well adapted to cope with either, both, or a mix, and you realize there will never be an equal outcome. It isn't possible.
That isn't the point. The point is, the civilization myself and my fellow Americans know is, without a doubt, the pinnacle of all the efforts at civilization in man's history to date. People can travel around the world in, really, a day. With the right equipment and tools, I could pretty much dig the volume of a swimming pool in a day, or move millions of tons of material from a ship to shore in a day. We can point a metal object at game, and take it. But, because others herd, tend, and breed domestic animals, there really isn't a need. It is actually more expensive to hunt one's own game, of some unsure quality and without the needed fats, than it is to pay for a whole animal raised by another, butchered by another, and sometimes delivered.
We can call anyone with a phone, anywhere in the world. We live long and healthy lives. We have so much excesses of both energy and leisure time that we, if we choose, may play sports just for pleasure... and to burn excess calories and that extra energy that can plague us. Food, just that alone, is miraculous. At absolutely any time in history, and even to this day in most parts of the world, if you suggested that people actually seek out physical activity because food is so easy to come by that we live in a nation plagued by obesity, the listener might smack you for anger of loved ones who starved to death, or disbelieve you, or have no idea what to do. The apex of anything is doing something so simply that no collective energy is spent to do the act. We, here, now, are apex predators beyond the ken of anything that has, or ever will, exist.
All of this, however, is based on a few simple things. Energy to burn, which goes into tech, which has replaced the sweat off our brow. You work hard? You do? Really? Give up your vehicle, turn off your furnace, stop the water flow to your home, NOW go to work. Just do it for a week. That isn't even the whole of it, but it would give you an idea of what real work begins to look like, the work of surviving. We don't do that, on top of our jobs. No, you don't work hard.
Beside energy, and the means of dispersing it, there are all sorts of mechanisms. Electrical, of course, mechanical no doubt, but ideal as well. Planes can fly, with some givens, but without the notion of air traffic control, those flights would perpetually be endangered. Simple ideas which are used to make all of the rest of it work. Little of that has strict borders, either. What goes into flight control also, for example, puts limits on what others can use for broadcasting and communicating, what can be flashed toward the sky, and it webs out from there. Our world, as Americans, is far more ideal, if based on humble simple devices, and machines, than it it on those last.
That said, the greater the civilization, the more fragile it really is. A simple thing, such as bringing down the electrical grid, would be enough to end our civilization if that could not be repaired. And, honestly, it couldn't be. If even a third of the equipment that runs our grid were to be destroyed, the cost and complexity involved with repairing that system would see our grand children's grand children still working on the project. But this isn't about even that. It is simply that we do live in a fragile land of magic. Magic held in by mirrors. Mirrors made of glass.
Of course, for those who see, know... it isn't even about fear, or ignoring the issue, or even the issue itself. It is about understanding some humble truths. Enjoying the fruits of the labor of the generations who formed the political grounds, leaving space for the private sector and government to work toward implementing, as imperfectly and haltingly as is the best that men can do, a world in which we can complain about a... slow internet link. Just... saying.
.
What is it, exactly? There are many answers to that. A few of them are more correct, more inclusive, but none of them will get it all right. Further, by the time you near the perfection of the definition, you have run clean out of listeners, readers, thought, and reason itself. Basically, however, think of civilization as that which lessens the reliance on brutality to live. It is a spectrum, from primitive to nearly effortless living.
Oddly, both ends of the spectrum are horrors. When people have to fight everything, and everyone, to survive, only the animal might remain. If people have to fight nothing, and no one, and are prevented from competition, there is no challenge to life, something people seem breed to not only tolerate, but need. Mix in that some people are not capable of one, or the other, extreme, and yet still others are well adapted to cope with either, both, or a mix, and you realize there will never be an equal outcome. It isn't possible.
That isn't the point. The point is, the civilization myself and my fellow Americans know is, without a doubt, the pinnacle of all the efforts at civilization in man's history to date. People can travel around the world in, really, a day. With the right equipment and tools, I could pretty much dig the volume of a swimming pool in a day, or move millions of tons of material from a ship to shore in a day. We can point a metal object at game, and take it. But, because others herd, tend, and breed domestic animals, there really isn't a need. It is actually more expensive to hunt one's own game, of some unsure quality and without the needed fats, than it is to pay for a whole animal raised by another, butchered by another, and sometimes delivered.
We can call anyone with a phone, anywhere in the world. We live long and healthy lives. We have so much excesses of both energy and leisure time that we, if we choose, may play sports just for pleasure... and to burn excess calories and that extra energy that can plague us. Food, just that alone, is miraculous. At absolutely any time in history, and even to this day in most parts of the world, if you suggested that people actually seek out physical activity because food is so easy to come by that we live in a nation plagued by obesity, the listener might smack you for anger of loved ones who starved to death, or disbelieve you, or have no idea what to do. The apex of anything is doing something so simply that no collective energy is spent to do the act. We, here, now, are apex predators beyond the ken of anything that has, or ever will, exist.
All of this, however, is based on a few simple things. Energy to burn, which goes into tech, which has replaced the sweat off our brow. You work hard? You do? Really? Give up your vehicle, turn off your furnace, stop the water flow to your home, NOW go to work. Just do it for a week. That isn't even the whole of it, but it would give you an idea of what real work begins to look like, the work of surviving. We don't do that, on top of our jobs. No, you don't work hard.
Beside energy, and the means of dispersing it, there are all sorts of mechanisms. Electrical, of course, mechanical no doubt, but ideal as well. Planes can fly, with some givens, but without the notion of air traffic control, those flights would perpetually be endangered. Simple ideas which are used to make all of the rest of it work. Little of that has strict borders, either. What goes into flight control also, for example, puts limits on what others can use for broadcasting and communicating, what can be flashed toward the sky, and it webs out from there. Our world, as Americans, is far more ideal, if based on humble simple devices, and machines, than it it on those last.
That said, the greater the civilization, the more fragile it really is. A simple thing, such as bringing down the electrical grid, would be enough to end our civilization if that could not be repaired. And, honestly, it couldn't be. If even a third of the equipment that runs our grid were to be destroyed, the cost and complexity involved with repairing that system would see our grand children's grand children still working on the project. But this isn't about even that. It is simply that we do live in a fragile land of magic. Magic held in by mirrors. Mirrors made of glass.
Of course, for those who see, know... it isn't even about fear, or ignoring the issue, or even the issue itself. It is about understanding some humble truths. Enjoying the fruits of the labor of the generations who formed the political grounds, leaving space for the private sector and government to work toward implementing, as imperfectly and haltingly as is the best that men can do, a world in which we can complain about a... slow internet link. Just... saying.
Bleeding heart?
.
.
Yes, and, of course, no. Bleeding face on the way, however. No doubts. I just went through what I will need for shaving. I haven't found my brushes, but I am sure I will. The other things I need, I listed, reviewed options, looked for less expensive where possible, and cut the initial bill down from over $300 to more like half that, plus change with a little bit of shipping. Beautiful. I hit the order button and... well... it gets here when it arrives, I guess. Oh, and I had paired the bill enough that I purchased a cheap, very cheap, several dollar, razor. Why? To practice honing and the rest, before putting hundred dollar blades to the grind. A poor job of honing can cost a lot to repair. And, who knows. I might have a cheapy that works just fine, in the end. Something to offer a man to try, should he be interested in going astray. :) As is, I have four top quality blades. I suspect I will get them all into shape, then rotate them. Perhaps the cheap one, if it does actually prove out, or use that for travel. Dunno.
I also set up the order for my other niece. I haven't pulled the trigger on that order, as I want the cards that are late to arrive before sending this gift to the second niece. It's a matter of not... or... order of things... or... well... you know. Along with the machine I am sending a couple of variety needle packs and extra... thread things... bobbins? Yeah. Just to give them a headstart. I would have done thread, but good thread is expensive, and a solid pack would... Hmm, yeah, I go overboard. Even now, but not all the way. It's as middle ground as I could get. I do try to do right. But I'm a nut, and... it's never sharp enough.
Today? I am going to try to get set down, in front of the tool area, and pick things apart, one by one, and put it all back into order. If I get that done, then move on to looking for the shaving brush. If I find that, or time out on nerve, then find another area to set to rights. And so on. It's still chilly, often cloudy, and... well... tough to get going. I was grateful to my friend for kicking me in the head to get going. Seriously. He is a good friend. I do appreciate him. I just wish I could handle being kicked a bit more often. Monday, though, shooting. Unless it's too cold. Then we will just raid the town! :)
Well, ladies and gents, have yourself a wonderful day. I am going to fit a bit of bible reading in, study actually. An hour of reading, studying, and prayer, in there, today. You will be on my list, one way or the other. Oh, not a boast. A bit of shame. I need it. Just... a reminder for others, hopefully. Three times this week, along with my regular prayer. Not been bad, just haven't been good! :) Later.
OH! The neighbors were working in the field to the side of my home. They were removing huge tree trunks and generally prepping the field there, for using as livestock fodder planting and harvesting. All good, in my view. Having the weeds out, and having it harvested... a loverly thing to this Doom. I had meant to get out to ask, with their heavy machinery, if they would remove a couple of stumps. But... being crippled up and while hiding in shadows, I never did get out to place the request. I could tell, by the sounds, that they were finished. I must admit, between the thought of facing those bushed stumps, and not having control in order to just get out and ask, I nearly came to tears. It's hard to be stuck in a cave, further in a corpse, sometimes. Frustration, rage, to be sure. Anyway... when I went to get in my vehicle yesterday? The stumps were gone! Thank you. Thank you very much.
.
Yes, and, of course, no. Bleeding face on the way, however. No doubts. I just went through what I will need for shaving. I haven't found my brushes, but I am sure I will. The other things I need, I listed, reviewed options, looked for less expensive where possible, and cut the initial bill down from over $300 to more like half that, plus change with a little bit of shipping. Beautiful. I hit the order button and... well... it gets here when it arrives, I guess. Oh, and I had paired the bill enough that I purchased a cheap, very cheap, several dollar, razor. Why? To practice honing and the rest, before putting hundred dollar blades to the grind. A poor job of honing can cost a lot to repair. And, who knows. I might have a cheapy that works just fine, in the end. Something to offer a man to try, should he be interested in going astray. :) As is, I have four top quality blades. I suspect I will get them all into shape, then rotate them. Perhaps the cheap one, if it does actually prove out, or use that for travel. Dunno.
I also set up the order for my other niece. I haven't pulled the trigger on that order, as I want the cards that are late to arrive before sending this gift to the second niece. It's a matter of not... or... order of things... or... well... you know. Along with the machine I am sending a couple of variety needle packs and extra... thread things... bobbins? Yeah. Just to give them a headstart. I would have done thread, but good thread is expensive, and a solid pack would... Hmm, yeah, I go overboard. Even now, but not all the way. It's as middle ground as I could get. I do try to do right. But I'm a nut, and... it's never sharp enough.
Today? I am going to try to get set down, in front of the tool area, and pick things apart, one by one, and put it all back into order. If I get that done, then move on to looking for the shaving brush. If I find that, or time out on nerve, then find another area to set to rights. And so on. It's still chilly, often cloudy, and... well... tough to get going. I was grateful to my friend for kicking me in the head to get going. Seriously. He is a good friend. I do appreciate him. I just wish I could handle being kicked a bit more often. Monday, though, shooting. Unless it's too cold. Then we will just raid the town! :)
Well, ladies and gents, have yourself a wonderful day. I am going to fit a bit of bible reading in, study actually. An hour of reading, studying, and prayer, in there, today. You will be on my list, one way or the other. Oh, not a boast. A bit of shame. I need it. Just... a reminder for others, hopefully. Three times this week, along with my regular prayer. Not been bad, just haven't been good! :) Later.
OH! The neighbors were working in the field to the side of my home. They were removing huge tree trunks and generally prepping the field there, for using as livestock fodder planting and harvesting. All good, in my view. Having the weeds out, and having it harvested... a loverly thing to this Doom. I had meant to get out to ask, with their heavy machinery, if they would remove a couple of stumps. But... being crippled up and while hiding in shadows, I never did get out to place the request. I could tell, by the sounds, that they were finished. I must admit, between the thought of facing those bushed stumps, and not having control in order to just get out and ask, I nearly came to tears. It's hard to be stuck in a cave, further in a corpse, sometimes. Frustration, rage, to be sure. Anyway... when I went to get in my vehicle yesterday? The stumps were gone! Thank you. Thank you very much.
Friday, April 4, 2014
Almost a nothing day.
.
.
I WAS ThinkinG about getting to something. But nothing would happen. So, I was just sitting there. The phone rang. My friend. He wanted to know if I could pick him up, he had, somehow, made it downtown. I didn't want to. But then, I didn't want to do anything, which is why I was sitting there. But the back side of my mind caught the opportunity and ran with it. Yes, I suggested, I can do that. So I rushed a shower in, got dressed, and sped off to town.
While in town I stopped at a few places, looking for a honing stone, or stones. The closest I saw was a $99 kit that only went up to 1200 grip. No, not at all. I will simply have to order the items online. By the way, I found the cape buffalo horn handled razor last night. No, I wasn't looking for it (of course), I was tinkering... somewhere. I also found an unopened, thus not tossed, soap puck, for shaving. Now I just need to find my brushes, get the honing stones, strop treatment, diamond paste, hone the blades, strop them, and... begin cutting myself really terribly. :) I love optimism. Not for my sake, just fun to make fun of. :)
My friend ordered another gun, or at least asked about it. Yeah, but he seems to like them. Makes me jealous, every time. But, such is life. He might let me shoot it. Maybe. I try to remember to buy ammo, if it's ammo I don't have. I'm not sure what caliber it was, but a rifle of some sort. I gave him one of my 30 round 9 mm mags. He thinks he can get it to fit one of his pistols. I've got three. Still, I want him, if he alters that one, to just buy one to replace what I gave him. He wanted it now, who was I to disparage the notion? He's good for it.
Tomorrow, perhaps, I will get to straightening. I would really like to hit small areas, as long as I can, until they are done, then move on. Like a grasshopper or something. Oh, I also bought a gift card, for my niece. Now it's a matter of getting in to town, at the right time, in order to send that particular card in such a manner that it is insured and needs a signature. Can't trust anyone these days, so... And, before too long, I will be ordering a sewing machine for the other niece. Pretty much the same price range. My mother says she will show them how to use the machine. I'm late, for the one niece, and her mom, with birthday cards. I am hoping quality trumps timeliness? I'm... always late.
Almost bedtime. Good night, actually.
.
I WAS ThinkinG about getting to something. But nothing would happen. So, I was just sitting there. The phone rang. My friend. He wanted to know if I could pick him up, he had, somehow, made it downtown. I didn't want to. But then, I didn't want to do anything, which is why I was sitting there. But the back side of my mind caught the opportunity and ran with it. Yes, I suggested, I can do that. So I rushed a shower in, got dressed, and sped off to town.
While in town I stopped at a few places, looking for a honing stone, or stones. The closest I saw was a $99 kit that only went up to 1200 grip. No, not at all. I will simply have to order the items online. By the way, I found the cape buffalo horn handled razor last night. No, I wasn't looking for it (of course), I was tinkering... somewhere. I also found an unopened, thus not tossed, soap puck, for shaving. Now I just need to find my brushes, get the honing stones, strop treatment, diamond paste, hone the blades, strop them, and... begin cutting myself really terribly. :) I love optimism. Not for my sake, just fun to make fun of. :)
My friend ordered another gun, or at least asked about it. Yeah, but he seems to like them. Makes me jealous, every time. But, such is life. He might let me shoot it. Maybe. I try to remember to buy ammo, if it's ammo I don't have. I'm not sure what caliber it was, but a rifle of some sort. I gave him one of my 30 round 9 mm mags. He thinks he can get it to fit one of his pistols. I've got three. Still, I want him, if he alters that one, to just buy one to replace what I gave him. He wanted it now, who was I to disparage the notion? He's good for it.
Tomorrow, perhaps, I will get to straightening. I would really like to hit small areas, as long as I can, until they are done, then move on. Like a grasshopper or something. Oh, I also bought a gift card, for my niece. Now it's a matter of getting in to town, at the right time, in order to send that particular card in such a manner that it is insured and needs a signature. Can't trust anyone these days, so... And, before too long, I will be ordering a sewing machine for the other niece. Pretty much the same price range. My mother says she will show them how to use the machine. I'm late, for the one niece, and her mom, with birthday cards. I am hoping quality trumps timeliness? I'm... always late.
Almost bedtime. Good night, actually.
The mind is a wonderful thing to which to lay waste.
.
.
Oh, not mine. Some would say it is a waste, others would suggest it is precious for various reasons, while I think of it as a calculator with a few rarer features and bugs. If I am a waste, however, it isn't because of my mind. My mind is held back by a truly nearly dead body. I still laugh that, now that I haven't died, after they finally found out what was wrong and about shat themselves, as the doctors were almost absolutely sure I was going to die when they fully understood my predicament, imminently, that they now try to tell me what is really wrong with me is my head. God will get them for this, He will. They are doing evil by supporting their useless union brothers against the good of those they try to push to them. They are doctors, they should know how evil and failed those other fields are, start to stop. They have an obligation, one that is impossible to not see with merely a glance. But? Money, money, money, and union. Greed will choke their path to heaven, leaving them the only option left to the damned.
What I mean is, I love to put things out that make people squeal. It doesn't have to be grotesque, or even direct. Truth be told, I don't even have to try. Whether through shivering terror, the hawking up of gonads through the nose, the burning of the ear, or a hemorrhage of the mind, with and without effort. But, if you think that is bad? Real life only intensifies it. Now, if I don't break you into gibbering mush? Or, slightly after if you heal well? I will turn you into stone. Even women, to a degree. But, if they choose the path of the demure, they don't get the full treatment. Heat treatments, lads, and lasses if you so choose. Just... reminders. At one time, when my corpse was whole, I expected those around me, of body and mind, to be strong enough to deal with it. And I was in the company of such folk. I am headed back there. Whether I get there or not is a whole other issue. But I tell you, I am in the right neighborhood.
.
Oh, not mine. Some would say it is a waste, others would suggest it is precious for various reasons, while I think of it as a calculator with a few rarer features and bugs. If I am a waste, however, it isn't because of my mind. My mind is held back by a truly nearly dead body. I still laugh that, now that I haven't died, after they finally found out what was wrong and about shat themselves, as the doctors were almost absolutely sure I was going to die when they fully understood my predicament, imminently, that they now try to tell me what is really wrong with me is my head. God will get them for this, He will. They are doing evil by supporting their useless union brothers against the good of those they try to push to them. They are doctors, they should know how evil and failed those other fields are, start to stop. They have an obligation, one that is impossible to not see with merely a glance. But? Money, money, money, and union. Greed will choke their path to heaven, leaving them the only option left to the damned.
What I mean is, I love to put things out that make people squeal. It doesn't have to be grotesque, or even direct. Truth be told, I don't even have to try. Whether through shivering terror, the hawking up of gonads through the nose, the burning of the ear, or a hemorrhage of the mind, with and without effort. But, if you think that is bad? Real life only intensifies it. Now, if I don't break you into gibbering mush? Or, slightly after if you heal well? I will turn you into stone. Even women, to a degree. But, if they choose the path of the demure, they don't get the full treatment. Heat treatments, lads, and lasses if you so choose. Just... reminders. At one time, when my corpse was whole, I expected those around me, of body and mind, to be strong enough to deal with it. And I was in the company of such folk. I am headed back there. Whether I get there or not is a whole other issue. But I tell you, I am in the right neighborhood.
- This little piggy went to the market,
- This little piggy stayed home,
- This little piggy had roast beef,
- This little piggy had none,
- And this little piggy cried wee wee wee all the way home.
Thursday, April 3, 2014
Three more hours.
.
.
It has become easier. Three hours seems like such a short time. And, often, it is. But when you have to stay awake for three hours it can get long. Especially three hours outside of what had become your bedtime. I have searched as much as I can. I know I will find these items, sooner or later, just not today. Searching too much, and often ending up going in circles, is not good for the mind. Unless I am very tired, and otherwise stressed as well, I know when to call a search off. Like the hounds on the trail. Their are some who will tire, and return. There are some who were trained well, and return. And there are some, for some, or no, reason, who are so into the chase that they run until they drop. I can be any of those. I never can be sure, when starting, which it will be. The middle, this time.
In my search, however, I found... something delicious. No, not an item. An idea. I may begin going through as much as I can, sorting, throwing away, cleaning, and placing. Tools, books... well maybe not books as I have too many for the bookshelves, cooking items, all sorts of things. I really enjoyed doing a bit of that today. And, with a chair, and perhaps a little music from the ipod shuffle, I might just make progress. There are things I simply don't, and won't, get a handle on. My garden hoses are great, but... difficult to deal with, for example. If it is too big, and I don't have an immediate means of handling something, it just... sits. See, this is something a woman would not allow. Either she would fix it, or nag me until I did. Oh, trust me. Not a bad thing, mind you. Still, if she can do the thinking, on organization, I can spot the muscle and some thinking, and even coin, from my own larder, toward a project. Works well, when it works.
So, tomorrow, I am going to start in on the kitchen. A general run, to open the tool area, and then a bit of work there. I actually did a pretty good job on that last year. It will just need a little bit of attention, not a full blown complete job. After that, I'd like to spend time in the bathroom. I store some things in there, plus all of the normal things found in a bathroom. Then the living room, and my bedroom. Just sitting and sorting and tossing. There is some hope that I could get to all the spaces and rooms. While I don't live in a mansion, I do have... plenty of goods and many spots that could deal with some sorting. While I am at it I will start gathering gear for the camping trip, specifically, and generally. I'll sort of put together a vehicle bob, as well. Nothing fancy, just something. It might take a week, but I am hoping to have my cave looking more like a home before I am through, and know where some gear is.
Hmm. I could take the trash out, while my mind is heading that way, yet tonight. After that, perhaps a movie, to get over the three hour hump? Yeah, maybe. But what movie? I have a number of old movies, that passed muster. Oh, and I really did buy popcorn, and peanuts, for if this should go south but not too close. A little popcorn would be good. It's been a while. This last time I bought two different types of popcorn to try. My old standby, while still decent, doesn't seem to be as good as it was in Iowa. Since I doubt the popcorn changed, I have to wonder if altitude, or lack of humidity generally, are what is causing it to not taste as good? So I have begun looking at other popping corn to test, while buying some of the usual. It pops to the last kernel, pretty much, and tastes okay. But the popped kernels aren't as big, not as fluffy, and not as tasty. Ah, too dense. Altitude. It may just be the price of living in the highlands. If so, I wouldn't trade back!
.
It has become easier. Three hours seems like such a short time. And, often, it is. But when you have to stay awake for three hours it can get long. Especially three hours outside of what had become your bedtime. I have searched as much as I can. I know I will find these items, sooner or later, just not today. Searching too much, and often ending up going in circles, is not good for the mind. Unless I am very tired, and otherwise stressed as well, I know when to call a search off. Like the hounds on the trail. Their are some who will tire, and return. There are some who were trained well, and return. And there are some, for some, or no, reason, who are so into the chase that they run until they drop. I can be any of those. I never can be sure, when starting, which it will be. The middle, this time.
In my search, however, I found... something delicious. No, not an item. An idea. I may begin going through as much as I can, sorting, throwing away, cleaning, and placing. Tools, books... well maybe not books as I have too many for the bookshelves, cooking items, all sorts of things. I really enjoyed doing a bit of that today. And, with a chair, and perhaps a little music from the ipod shuffle, I might just make progress. There are things I simply don't, and won't, get a handle on. My garden hoses are great, but... difficult to deal with, for example. If it is too big, and I don't have an immediate means of handling something, it just... sits. See, this is something a woman would not allow. Either she would fix it, or nag me until I did. Oh, trust me. Not a bad thing, mind you. Still, if she can do the thinking, on organization, I can spot the muscle and some thinking, and even coin, from my own larder, toward a project. Works well, when it works.
So, tomorrow, I am going to start in on the kitchen. A general run, to open the tool area, and then a bit of work there. I actually did a pretty good job on that last year. It will just need a little bit of attention, not a full blown complete job. After that, I'd like to spend time in the bathroom. I store some things in there, plus all of the normal things found in a bathroom. Then the living room, and my bedroom. Just sitting and sorting and tossing. There is some hope that I could get to all the spaces and rooms. While I don't live in a mansion, I do have... plenty of goods and many spots that could deal with some sorting. While I am at it I will start gathering gear for the camping trip, specifically, and generally. I'll sort of put together a vehicle bob, as well. Nothing fancy, just something. It might take a week, but I am hoping to have my cave looking more like a home before I am through, and know where some gear is.
Hmm. I could take the trash out, while my mind is heading that way, yet tonight. After that, perhaps a movie, to get over the three hour hump? Yeah, maybe. But what movie? I have a number of old movies, that passed muster. Oh, and I really did buy popcorn, and peanuts, for if this should go south but not too close. A little popcorn would be good. It's been a while. This last time I bought two different types of popcorn to try. My old standby, while still decent, doesn't seem to be as good as it was in Iowa. Since I doubt the popcorn changed, I have to wonder if altitude, or lack of humidity generally, are what is causing it to not taste as good? So I have begun looking at other popping corn to test, while buying some of the usual. It pops to the last kernel, pretty much, and tastes okay. But the popped kernels aren't as big, not as fluffy, and not as tasty. Ah, too dense. Altitude. It may just be the price of living in the highlands. If so, I wouldn't trade back!
What to do.
.
.
I think, to kick off the day, I am going rummaging. I believe I have a strop, and would like to collect any various shaving kit I might already have. I have three razors, and they weren't cheap, one of them truly luxurious. Along with the strop, I probably have soap, a badger brush, perhaps a stand or two, and various other bits and pieces. The thing is, I know those razors probably aren't all that sharp. And they have never been properly honed. I am looking at sharpening and honing stones, but those are rather expensive.
After I do what of that I can do, to whatever level of success, perhaps I'll be in better shape to do some cleaning, laundry, dishes, and maybe painting. Who knows. I have some meat thawed, so might as well plan on something for lunch. The last time I was at the store, I saw something Desert Cat had mentioned. Bread, but made from germinated ground wheat. It wasn't any more expensive than the rest, so I thought I would give it a chance. It is supposed to be better for diabetes. Yes, this stuff filters through from time to time. It's on my mind. It's a matter of application. So, a sausage and egg sandwich might work quite well.
Yeah, a day of rest. But only as needed. I might need it later, but for now I think I'll go do something useful. Or... more or less useful. Okay, fine, it is just doing something. Later.
------
Strop was found, and in excellent shape. Further, it has a linen cloth strop with it, not the artificial stuff on almost all I have seen in my search online. I found three of my blades, but not the good one. I'm sure it is around though. The only difference between the normals and the good one is the buffalo horn handle, so it's not a matter of quality of the blade. Oh, and they are, definitely, still SHARP. They simply need to be honed, then stropped. Of course, that does mean a quality honing stone, strop dressing, and perhaps a bar of honing compound for the back of the cotton strop. Oh, and some balloons. Lots and lots of balloons. I don't have the soap anymore. I think I chunked it after the first effort. Even though I thought I would try later, a bar of opened, wetted, soap just... didn't seem worth saving. I would guess the brush is wherever the good razor is. I think I put them aside, thinking I might be trying this before too long. Just never got around to it, until now maybe.
I doubt if I will buy all I want this month, for this affair. But I would like to buy either a higher grit honing stone, or a set of stones. And maybe a soap and aftershave. With this sort of shaving, aftershave becomes a must. Well, and something for the cuts. There are several ways to treat those, I used a stick of alum, last time. That is cheap enough, and works, but stings like a bee. I might get that, and perhaps something else as well. I have travel this month, and a couple of gifts that need to be sent, so I can't go all crazy on shaving this month. And, besides, I'm... still a bit nervy about this whole project. I remember two to three weeks of a sore, cut, face, from last time. And, from what I have heard, it may be even longer than that before I actually get good at it... months, so they suggest, potentially. Youch! Later.
.
I think, to kick off the day, I am going rummaging. I believe I have a strop, and would like to collect any various shaving kit I might already have. I have three razors, and they weren't cheap, one of them truly luxurious. Along with the strop, I probably have soap, a badger brush, perhaps a stand or two, and various other bits and pieces. The thing is, I know those razors probably aren't all that sharp. And they have never been properly honed. I am looking at sharpening and honing stones, but those are rather expensive.
After I do what of that I can do, to whatever level of success, perhaps I'll be in better shape to do some cleaning, laundry, dishes, and maybe painting. Who knows. I have some meat thawed, so might as well plan on something for lunch. The last time I was at the store, I saw something Desert Cat had mentioned. Bread, but made from germinated ground wheat. It wasn't any more expensive than the rest, so I thought I would give it a chance. It is supposed to be better for diabetes. Yes, this stuff filters through from time to time. It's on my mind. It's a matter of application. So, a sausage and egg sandwich might work quite well.
Yeah, a day of rest. But only as needed. I might need it later, but for now I think I'll go do something useful. Or... more or less useful. Okay, fine, it is just doing something. Later.
------
Strop was found, and in excellent shape. Further, it has a linen cloth strop with it, not the artificial stuff on almost all I have seen in my search online. I found three of my blades, but not the good one. I'm sure it is around though. The only difference between the normals and the good one is the buffalo horn handle, so it's not a matter of quality of the blade. Oh, and they are, definitely, still SHARP. They simply need to be honed, then stropped. Of course, that does mean a quality honing stone, strop dressing, and perhaps a bar of honing compound for the back of the cotton strop. Oh, and some balloons. Lots and lots of balloons. I don't have the soap anymore. I think I chunked it after the first effort. Even though I thought I would try later, a bar of opened, wetted, soap just... didn't seem worth saving. I would guess the brush is wherever the good razor is. I think I put them aside, thinking I might be trying this before too long. Just never got around to it, until now maybe.
I doubt if I will buy all I want this month, for this affair. But I would like to buy either a higher grit honing stone, or a set of stones. And maybe a soap and aftershave. With this sort of shaving, aftershave becomes a must. Well, and something for the cuts. There are several ways to treat those, I used a stick of alum, last time. That is cheap enough, and works, but stings like a bee. I might get that, and perhaps something else as well. I have travel this month, and a couple of gifts that need to be sent, so I can't go all crazy on shaving this month. And, besides, I'm... still a bit nervy about this whole project. I remember two to three weeks of a sore, cut, face, from last time. And, from what I have heard, it may be even longer than that before I actually get good at it... months, so they suggest, potentially. Youch! Later.
Shaving.
.
.
While waking, I decided to look a little more into shaving with a straight razor. Between yesterday and today I have found a number of problems with my first attempt. Some advice out there, as I have suggested, and by the way, is horrible.
There is, actually, a way to improve the skill without risking skin. Using a balloon. Lather it, just as you would your face, and learn to not pop the balloon. I also learned that my razors, regardless of what the manufacture stated, are not truly shave ready. On the good side, the razors I have are considered among the best. However, they do have to be honed before they will truly be functional. And, finally... stropping. I chose advice to follow, as it seemed reasonable. It did not include advice regarding stropping, a glaring failure if what I am learning is true. If you shave with a straight razor, you have to strop every single time before shaving.
Okay. All good. As far as advice, and after some serious digging. Now, however, is figuring out which items work best for honing, which strop and which type of strop to buy, and... then on to a few other things. By the way, shaving with a straight razor is a, relatively, short term, up front, expensive method. And, that assumes you buy the right items for what works for you, not an easy assumption. Some suggest, for honing, a duel 4k/8k stone, one fellow suggests a 12k stone, with a strop set up for 30k diamond grit. Both stones run about $75. The grit doesn't seem too expensive, but it does add up. Now, finding a good strop? That's proving difficult. The notion is that you want both a leather and a cotton canvas strop. Horse leather is the best. The problem? Price and size. The cheap ones start at $12, the expensive ones can run over a hundred, but few are getting good reviews, really. At least, reviews I trust. I've looked at several stores. It seems that many strops, at this point, are made purely for looks. Which is fine, if that is what you want. And it isn't just the cheap, or expensive, ones. At all price ranges, many of them are just for looks. At this point, I am looking for a little more size in my strop. Length isn't as much of an issue as is width.
There is, with this topic, as many others, from prepping to hand tools, as much myth, lies, sales gimmicks, and other such, that it is very difficult to sort through to some kind of truth. Finding someone who uses these things daily would be a good way. But often these folks, the ones that would take the time to talk these things over, are salesman. Does anyone know, for sure, on this or that, about anything? I'm starting to doubt it. You just have to sort of pick a place to start, pick a few sources to trust, and figure it out yourself, over time, as best you can. The pros are there to sell you overpriced crap. The experts either don't know, or know but have patented their expertise to the highest bidder, usually one of the pros who is selling something, or other, that you don't need, at an inflated price. Never hurts to have a smarmy lying expert on his side, and it's just a portion of what he is making over his costs. Bleh.
Still... I'm... studying the matter.
Oh, there is something else you should know about shaving with a straight razor. You best have a good long time allocated to shaving. If all you have in the morning is ten or fifteen minutes? Don't even think about it. The stropping guideline, which has to be done every morning, includes at least 40 to 70 strokes (back and forth). I suppose you could get quick enough to do this in several minutes, but I wouldn't count on it up front. Then you need time to work your whiskers, with a warm towel wrap, and perhaps two different sessions of that. Then, while shaving, you need to figure in that you will need to keep your lather warm, as you are applying it. And, finally, shaving. You may need to passes. Neither of which will be fast. Did I mention STRAIGHT RAZOR, and face and neck? Yeah. No, this is, at best, I suspect, when you get very good at it, an half an hour process. For starters? Longer. Something to keep in mind.
Odd that just shaving could require a major personal paradigm shift in how life is lived, but there it is. Oh, but do not think I disparage the notion of such a shift. I think it is the way to go. I recommend it. I commend the men who have chosen it. I think it will make men stop and think, not just on this issue, but as a way of life. But it is, as things stand, as life is currently lived for most men, a luxury. Just... making this clear. Oh, and don't do it because you think it will make you manly. Oh, I think it might. Women love seeing a razor to your throat, if not always for the reasons mentioned. And it is impressive. If you are trying to impress women, you are trying too hard, is all I am saying there. Do it for real reasons. *wink*
(gonna get teh hate-mail... YUM!)
Later.
.
While waking, I decided to look a little more into shaving with a straight razor. Between yesterday and today I have found a number of problems with my first attempt. Some advice out there, as I have suggested, and by the way, is horrible.
There is, actually, a way to improve the skill without risking skin. Using a balloon. Lather it, just as you would your face, and learn to not pop the balloon. I also learned that my razors, regardless of what the manufacture stated, are not truly shave ready. On the good side, the razors I have are considered among the best. However, they do have to be honed before they will truly be functional. And, finally... stropping. I chose advice to follow, as it seemed reasonable. It did not include advice regarding stropping, a glaring failure if what I am learning is true. If you shave with a straight razor, you have to strop every single time before shaving.
Okay. All good. As far as advice, and after some serious digging. Now, however, is figuring out which items work best for honing, which strop and which type of strop to buy, and... then on to a few other things. By the way, shaving with a straight razor is a, relatively, short term, up front, expensive method. And, that assumes you buy the right items for what works for you, not an easy assumption. Some suggest, for honing, a duel 4k/8k stone, one fellow suggests a 12k stone, with a strop set up for 30k diamond grit. Both stones run about $75. The grit doesn't seem too expensive, but it does add up. Now, finding a good strop? That's proving difficult. The notion is that you want both a leather and a cotton canvas strop. Horse leather is the best. The problem? Price and size. The cheap ones start at $12, the expensive ones can run over a hundred, but few are getting good reviews, really. At least, reviews I trust. I've looked at several stores. It seems that many strops, at this point, are made purely for looks. Which is fine, if that is what you want. And it isn't just the cheap, or expensive, ones. At all price ranges, many of them are just for looks. At this point, I am looking for a little more size in my strop. Length isn't as much of an issue as is width.
There is, with this topic, as many others, from prepping to hand tools, as much myth, lies, sales gimmicks, and other such, that it is very difficult to sort through to some kind of truth. Finding someone who uses these things daily would be a good way. But often these folks, the ones that would take the time to talk these things over, are salesman. Does anyone know, for sure, on this or that, about anything? I'm starting to doubt it. You just have to sort of pick a place to start, pick a few sources to trust, and figure it out yourself, over time, as best you can. The pros are there to sell you overpriced crap. The experts either don't know, or know but have patented their expertise to the highest bidder, usually one of the pros who is selling something, or other, that you don't need, at an inflated price. Never hurts to have a smarmy lying expert on his side, and it's just a portion of what he is making over his costs. Bleh.
Still... I'm... studying the matter.
Oh, there is something else you should know about shaving with a straight razor. You best have a good long time allocated to shaving. If all you have in the morning is ten or fifteen minutes? Don't even think about it. The stropping guideline, which has to be done every morning, includes at least 40 to 70 strokes (back and forth). I suppose you could get quick enough to do this in several minutes, but I wouldn't count on it up front. Then you need time to work your whiskers, with a warm towel wrap, and perhaps two different sessions of that. Then, while shaving, you need to figure in that you will need to keep your lather warm, as you are applying it. And, finally, shaving. You may need to passes. Neither of which will be fast. Did I mention STRAIGHT RAZOR, and face and neck? Yeah. No, this is, at best, I suspect, when you get very good at it, an half an hour process. For starters? Longer. Something to keep in mind.
Odd that just shaving could require a major personal paradigm shift in how life is lived, but there it is. Oh, but do not think I disparage the notion of such a shift. I think it is the way to go. I recommend it. I commend the men who have chosen it. I think it will make men stop and think, not just on this issue, but as a way of life. But it is, as things stand, as life is currently lived for most men, a luxury. Just... making this clear. Oh, and don't do it because you think it will make you manly. Oh, I think it might. Women love seeing a razor to your throat, if not always for the reasons mentioned. And it is impressive. If you are trying to impress women, you are trying too hard, is all I am saying there. Do it for real reasons. *wink*
(gonna get teh hate-mail... YUM!)
Later.
Stats looking much better this morning.
.
.
I don't think I trust the hospital. My blood pressure was 130/80 this morning, blood sugar was 250. How does blood sugar fall by half overnight? Yeah, I may have suggested high 3's, but that was playing a bit o' CYA. I believe they had suggested it was in the high 4's. Well, and I finished that regular soda I bought for my road travel, so I hadn't stopped using sugar. I'm not sure I trust them at all up there. I wonder if psychology has been so traumatized by the truth of their corruption that they are trying to talk/force any veteran they can into going. Personally I hope that branch gets so few people that they stop getting funding. As is, from what I could see, the only people who go are the ones who have so much neurological damage, probably from the "medicine" they hand out there, that there is nothing else to do with them but keep them on... something... anything. You can see the destruction they do with a simple visit. They shouldn't be ashamed, they should be imprisoned, perhaps shot. First rule, do no harm. Yeah, whatever. They won't talk me back into going, and I'd LOVE to see them try to force the issue. I think more and more returning vets have heard, and learned, to stay clear of the place, for that.
If I had the power I would outlaw most psychology and all psychiatry, and put psychology on such a tight leash it would probably cease existing. Essentially they would have to be as precise, accurate, and generally subjective as physical medicine. Basically, a patient sent to ten psychologists would have to come back with between seven and eight similar diagnoses without collusion. Further, anyone who can read would have to be able to identify most diagnoses rather readily through their definitions. Sure, a cold and the flu can be confused. But, for the most part, unless the illness is severe, it doesn't matter. And then a slightly deeper field of investigation will yield the truth rather quickly. As it stands, people are sick if they say so. And, really, to them, everybody is sick, even themselves. Part of their training is finding out what is wrong with they themselves. Not treating that latter, mind you. Oh... you didn't know? *grin* Now you do.
Today? I dunno. I made it to 17:00, nearly 18:00 actually. I sort of got in a zone. It was just a little rough until I hit the zone at maybe 13:00, 14:00. And there was a hiccup or two along the way. I just focused on the zone. I think I set the alarm, but turned it off when it sounded. I needed more than the nine hours allotted. Hmm... No. I usually round up, and 3:00 would have been the nine hour mark. Though when you are going to sleep, sometimes math is... not at it's high mark. Dunno. All I know was that I woke a bit earlier, but didn't think it was right, body wise, couldn't do anything like math though I did try. In any case I went back to sleep and woke at about 2:30. Good enough. Today, and tomorrow, the goal is to make it to 17:00 again, and just even that out. That is late enough for now, and a good place to start weighing the anchor by.
I will be testing blood sugar twice a day in the lead up to a visit with my primary doc's nurse. That and testing blood pressure every morning. While 250 is much better than 480, it isn't optimal. And that might explain the seeming feverishness and some other things. I just honestly didn't think it could be that high, given that I was doing my part, or so I thought. Never mind, just time to take care of some business. I do feel good this morning. I didn't feel all that bad last night toward bedtime. Just a little darkness in there, but it didn't eat on me too much. More like a few quick punches to the midsection. I may have some energy to get to a few things. Dishes, laundry, another round of painting on the rifle, and rounding up some stuff for the Arizona burn. Yeah, I better start prepping for that. Yum! Something to look forward to, and get my butt going.
Later.
.
I don't think I trust the hospital. My blood pressure was 130/80 this morning, blood sugar was 250. How does blood sugar fall by half overnight? Yeah, I may have suggested high 3's, but that was playing a bit o' CYA. I believe they had suggested it was in the high 4's. Well, and I finished that regular soda I bought for my road travel, so I hadn't stopped using sugar. I'm not sure I trust them at all up there. I wonder if psychology has been so traumatized by the truth of their corruption that they are trying to talk/force any veteran they can into going. Personally I hope that branch gets so few people that they stop getting funding. As is, from what I could see, the only people who go are the ones who have so much neurological damage, probably from the "medicine" they hand out there, that there is nothing else to do with them but keep them on... something... anything. You can see the destruction they do with a simple visit. They shouldn't be ashamed, they should be imprisoned, perhaps shot. First rule, do no harm. Yeah, whatever. They won't talk me back into going, and I'd LOVE to see them try to force the issue. I think more and more returning vets have heard, and learned, to stay clear of the place, for that.
If I had the power I would outlaw most psychology and all psychiatry, and put psychology on such a tight leash it would probably cease existing. Essentially they would have to be as precise, accurate, and generally subjective as physical medicine. Basically, a patient sent to ten psychologists would have to come back with between seven and eight similar diagnoses without collusion. Further, anyone who can read would have to be able to identify most diagnoses rather readily through their definitions. Sure, a cold and the flu can be confused. But, for the most part, unless the illness is severe, it doesn't matter. And then a slightly deeper field of investigation will yield the truth rather quickly. As it stands, people are sick if they say so. And, really, to them, everybody is sick, even themselves. Part of their training is finding out what is wrong with they themselves. Not treating that latter, mind you. Oh... you didn't know? *grin* Now you do.
Today? I dunno. I made it to 17:00, nearly 18:00 actually. I sort of got in a zone. It was just a little rough until I hit the zone at maybe 13:00, 14:00. And there was a hiccup or two along the way. I just focused on the zone. I think I set the alarm, but turned it off when it sounded. I needed more than the nine hours allotted. Hmm... No. I usually round up, and 3:00 would have been the nine hour mark. Though when you are going to sleep, sometimes math is... not at it's high mark. Dunno. All I know was that I woke a bit earlier, but didn't think it was right, body wise, couldn't do anything like math though I did try. In any case I went back to sleep and woke at about 2:30. Good enough. Today, and tomorrow, the goal is to make it to 17:00 again, and just even that out. That is late enough for now, and a good place to start weighing the anchor by.
I will be testing blood sugar twice a day in the lead up to a visit with my primary doc's nurse. That and testing blood pressure every morning. While 250 is much better than 480, it isn't optimal. And that might explain the seeming feverishness and some other things. I just honestly didn't think it could be that high, given that I was doing my part, or so I thought. Never mind, just time to take care of some business. I do feel good this morning. I didn't feel all that bad last night toward bedtime. Just a little darkness in there, but it didn't eat on me too much. More like a few quick punches to the midsection. I may have some energy to get to a few things. Dishes, laundry, another round of painting on the rifle, and rounding up some stuff for the Arizona burn. Yeah, I better start prepping for that. Yum! Something to look forward to, and get my butt going.
Later.
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
Ah, that might be it.
.
.
Perhaps, in reading here, and feeling... seeing... the pain... they judge me on their sensitivity to pain. They truly just don't understand, if that is the case. Psychology cannot undo, it cannot help. It can help as much with what I have gone through as heart medicine can. Actually, heart medicine is doing more to see me to health in these matters. I have to face these things. I have to believe. I have to remember.
If I don't face them, they will never be given a proper burial. They will just linger, as they have, because I didn't have the means of dealing with them. That requires memory. Psychology didn't even try to help with that, it just treated some of the pain. And not very well at that. But as I heal, memory is... becoming... more functional. Now, when I remember her, or them... I have some history. It isn't a fresh horror, that links to the other horrors. It is, if sometimes even now, and if passively and still a bit of a start, familiar. Almost as if I knew. Almost. Very close. Believing, however, is another thing altogether. Sometimes I can't believe. It still hurts too much. And so I forget, but, and again, not completely. I am becoming too healthy to bury the dead so deeply that I can't smell the rot.
Psychology just isn't geared to help with real wounds. It is for people who can't, won't, and don't want to, face their reality. I am not that kind of man. I must face it. Naked, shivering, bleeding, alone. There is no other way. Their weakness, the weakness of the doctors, is not my weakness. That... that's it. They can't handle... what I am. Their problem, not mine. My problems have to be dealt with in naked light, without painkillers or forget pills. I... feel sorry for them.
Okay, yeah, there are some post that... revisiting... is... not always doable. But then, I just don't. Not yet. Even when better... Well, you can't fix what is, always. Much like visiting a real grave of the dearly departed. There is a reason that is done once a year. If then.
.
Perhaps, in reading here, and feeling... seeing... the pain... they judge me on their sensitivity to pain. They truly just don't understand, if that is the case. Psychology cannot undo, it cannot help. It can help as much with what I have gone through as heart medicine can. Actually, heart medicine is doing more to see me to health in these matters. I have to face these things. I have to believe. I have to remember.
If I don't face them, they will never be given a proper burial. They will just linger, as they have, because I didn't have the means of dealing with them. That requires memory. Psychology didn't even try to help with that, it just treated some of the pain. And not very well at that. But as I heal, memory is... becoming... more functional. Now, when I remember her, or them... I have some history. It isn't a fresh horror, that links to the other horrors. It is, if sometimes even now, and if passively and still a bit of a start, familiar. Almost as if I knew. Almost. Very close. Believing, however, is another thing altogether. Sometimes I can't believe. It still hurts too much. And so I forget, but, and again, not completely. I am becoming too healthy to bury the dead so deeply that I can't smell the rot.
Psychology just isn't geared to help with real wounds. It is for people who can't, won't, and don't want to, face their reality. I am not that kind of man. I must face it. Naked, shivering, bleeding, alone. There is no other way. Their weakness, the weakness of the doctors, is not my weakness. That... that's it. They can't handle... what I am. Their problem, not mine. My problems have to be dealt with in naked light, without painkillers or forget pills. I... feel sorry for them.
Okay, yeah, there are some post that... revisiting... is... not always doable. But then, I just don't. Not yet. Even when better... Well, you can't fix what is, always. Much like visiting a real grave of the dearly departed. There is a reason that is done once a year. If then.
Made it with ease.
.
.
Showered, even shaved properly, though not with a straight razor yet. That'll... be a while. Then dressed and was on the road by 5:12, I believe, or something. I was very early, but all good. It snowed, and rained, on the way. So I drove a little less... vigorously. I did say I was a demon on the road. I try to back it off, but... hounds and rabbits, wolves and deer, some things are locked as they are. But with questionable conditions, I can back it down a bit. Further, as I realized I was going to be quite early, I actually went a bit below the speed of prevailing traffic. There were three lanes, and traffic wasn't excessively thick, so my conscience didn't bother me a bit. It was actually nice.
The results were not so good. My blood pressure was 149/90 something and my blood sugar was monster. It isn't the highest it has ever been, but it was depressingly high. And... I don't understand. I've been a pretty good boy, food wise. I thought I had been taking my medicine pretty good. Yeah, sure, I've been in a bit of a snit-spin, up and down, and pushing to get my days and nights worked out. Yeah, I've been stuck on my plump ass, truly. I've been pushing but to no great ends. Still, I thought I was doing good! Seriously. This is depressing. But, depressing in a way that works, I am hoping, to the good. I am just going to have to double down, watch everything, pay more attention, and really try to work these things.
Docs take it all personal. They don't seem to understand. They see me at my prime, on one of the few days of the month when I actually can get showered and dressed. I usually have to aim to make it, and push like a banshee. They don't see the rest of the days, where I can't do more than wake, maybe eat, then sleep. They don't get to see the shitty days upon days upon weeks where I can't but stand. They don't understand my frustration. I want to at least be out hiking, fishing, camping, boating, shooting, or... anything. Anything but sitting here. But I can't. Psychological my ass. They know it is medical, they just don't want to do what it takes to offer me a chance. So they excuse themselves and blame me.
Never mind. I'll try to put more effort in. If what I am doing isn't enough, I'll try to figure out something, anything, else that might work. I've got things to do, darn it. And I mean to get to some of them. I've paired my lists down. There is a chance I can get to all of them, if... I can just stand up. Bleh.
I have pretty much used today. Getting there, and back, takes up a day or two worth of energy. Tomorrow may be another rest day. But I will try to stay awake until 16:00, maybe 17:00, today, and tomorrow. But... that might be it. Then I want to try to get a few extra things done. Back to it, really, as I can. Medicine was taken this morning. I'll make sure tonight gets taken. All of it. Gotta do it, I've got things to do, reasons to live, and I'd like to live the life that was initially forced on me, but that I have learned to enjoy, as well as I may. Up and down as I may be, that doesn't change. Even when it hurts... I appreciate life. More so, in some ways, even when she reminds me... of another time and place... before it all went to hell. Even then.
Later.
.
Showered, even shaved properly, though not with a straight razor yet. That'll... be a while. Then dressed and was on the road by 5:12, I believe, or something. I was very early, but all good. It snowed, and rained, on the way. So I drove a little less... vigorously. I did say I was a demon on the road. I try to back it off, but... hounds and rabbits, wolves and deer, some things are locked as they are. But with questionable conditions, I can back it down a bit. Further, as I realized I was going to be quite early, I actually went a bit below the speed of prevailing traffic. There were three lanes, and traffic wasn't excessively thick, so my conscience didn't bother me a bit. It was actually nice.
The results were not so good. My blood pressure was 149/90 something and my blood sugar was monster. It isn't the highest it has ever been, but it was depressingly high. And... I don't understand. I've been a pretty good boy, food wise. I thought I had been taking my medicine pretty good. Yeah, sure, I've been in a bit of a snit-spin, up and down, and pushing to get my days and nights worked out. Yeah, I've been stuck on my plump ass, truly. I've been pushing but to no great ends. Still, I thought I was doing good! Seriously. This is depressing. But, depressing in a way that works, I am hoping, to the good. I am just going to have to double down, watch everything, pay more attention, and really try to work these things.
Docs take it all personal. They don't seem to understand. They see me at my prime, on one of the few days of the month when I actually can get showered and dressed. I usually have to aim to make it, and push like a banshee. They don't see the rest of the days, where I can't do more than wake, maybe eat, then sleep. They don't get to see the shitty days upon days upon weeks where I can't but stand. They don't understand my frustration. I want to at least be out hiking, fishing, camping, boating, shooting, or... anything. Anything but sitting here. But I can't. Psychological my ass. They know it is medical, they just don't want to do what it takes to offer me a chance. So they excuse themselves and blame me.
Never mind. I'll try to put more effort in. If what I am doing isn't enough, I'll try to figure out something, anything, else that might work. I've got things to do, darn it. And I mean to get to some of them. I've paired my lists down. There is a chance I can get to all of them, if... I can just stand up. Bleh.
I have pretty much used today. Getting there, and back, takes up a day or two worth of energy. Tomorrow may be another rest day. But I will try to stay awake until 16:00, maybe 17:00, today, and tomorrow. But... that might be it. Then I want to try to get a few extra things done. Back to it, really, as I can. Medicine was taken this morning. I'll make sure tonight gets taken. All of it. Gotta do it, I've got things to do, reasons to live, and I'd like to live the life that was initially forced on me, but that I have learned to enjoy, as well as I may. Up and down as I may be, that doesn't change. Even when it hurts... I appreciate life. More so, in some ways, even when she reminds me... of another time and place... before it all went to hell. Even then.
Later.
Stretching.
.
.
I pushed yesterday. But that's fine. Some days going a little further is refreshing. It sometimes doesn't feel like it at the time, though it can even then. I went through heavy spots of both yesterday. I don't know if the haunting is it's own thing, or a part of the way of things separately. That's been coming and going, getting more powerful, and mixes in with some other things, though, so I suspect, as I near some actions and choice... this has to happen. I sometimes wonder what she would have wanted for me. In some ways I'm glad I don't know. Complications.
Oh, yesterday while shutting down, I saw something funny on my phone. I don't like funny things, other than me. But even there I use the term "funny" in a, well, funny way. So, in all honesty, I wasn't amused. It's a new phone, relatively, so I had to tinker to find what it was. Ah. An appointment coming up. No problem. With my sleep schedule as it is, this appointment will be a cake walk. The drive will be easy, I'll be plenty awake to take a shower. I've given myself a rough shave, with the trimmer, so on the day, I can do an actual close shave. While I am in town, I may try to track down a shave specialty shop, or an old time store that might carry strops and strop cream, and perhaps a little advice. I've got two standard, but high quality steel, straight razors, and a buffalo horn one. I'd also like to look for a BIG soap mug, and a starter soap, along with one of those bleed pens. They stink like an sob, but beats putting tissue on it, only to rip that off later. I've heard there are better things, and if I find a shop, will ask. Hopefully the shop owner makes his employees familiarize themselves with the goods.
Why a straight razor. A) because, b) manly, c) cheap over the long haul, d) nothing is closer, e) it even looks good in the mirror, blood or not. It's a beastly thing to learn. Which, if I had to guess, is why men went with beards before the modern disposables in their various forms. Well, and it takes a good long time to shave. Most wouldn't know it, but my whiskers grow slowly. Two, maybe three, shaves a week, on on the important days, and I passed even mil inspections. Inspections where, if the chief or officer didn't trust his eyes, he might well pull out a playing card. Especially if you were a cocky big bastage. Especially that last. :) Being able to look stupid and innocent didn't help with some of the senior lads. They knew everything I did, then some. No give or take with some of them. Actually more so if they liked me, somehow. Probably just trying to... teach me to get ahead, I think, the hard way. The only way.
I went through both of my medsets. Not perfectly. I'm still missing a quarter of my doses. But it isn't from lack of effort. I simply can't always focus. I do my absolute best. Still, I didn't let the medsets go, and miss medicines today. It's a day by day thing. I already need to order three of my medicines. Where does it go! I thought I just ordered those. Over and over, more and more, never ahead. They say there are enough for 90 days in those, but I don't think there could be. I'm going to count the next sets that come through. Losarten and the water pill, both, out. Well, I was able to fill the first two week pillset, and there is a day or two more water pill, and the Losarten stretched to fill both two week sets, but... Didn't I just order both of those? I am sure I did. Then again, while I feel every second, personally, life outside of me runs on a funny clock. Again, funny isn't so funny as I use it, but in a different non-funny funny way as the other funny. Funny how many ways funny isn't funny?
The girls have been fed, their poopper boxes restored. A bit of chasing and mauling has been had. Sassy prefers to run, Sam prefers to surrender and be fluffed and roughed, gently. Both girls have full claw access. I don't trim. It keeps them safer outside, and gives them the ability to let me know enough is enough. An armed society, as they say, is a polite one. And we here at the cave of Doom are all armed, in our own peculiar ways. Our various rudeness is limited as such and by such. And, it works like a charm.
Dreams, last night, of pet bears. It started with one, an abandoned cub. Initially indoors, but that didn't work for long. Being used to being indoors, however, he wanted in, and learned to get in. I hardened things enough, to the point he had grown, to keep him out. But then he somehow made friends. His friends were older and bigger. Between them, they learned that the garage (attached, in the dream) could be broken into, and then the door from the garage to the house was really easy. Some hairy situations, as his "friends" weren't tame and all, and that was rubbing off. I think I ended up with bear rugs and meat. It's just the way it goes, sometimes.
Oh, right. I ought to get a shower going, just because. Later.
.
Oh, yesterday while shutting down, I saw something funny on my phone. I don't like funny things, other than me. But even there I use the term "funny" in a, well, funny way. So, in all honesty, I wasn't amused. It's a new phone, relatively, so I had to tinker to find what it was. Ah. An appointment coming up. No problem. With my sleep schedule as it is, this appointment will be a cake walk. The drive will be easy, I'll be plenty awake to take a shower. I've given myself a rough shave, with the trimmer, so on the day, I can do an actual close shave. While I am in town, I may try to track down a shave specialty shop, or an old time store that might carry strops and strop cream, and perhaps a little advice. I've got two standard, but high quality steel, straight razors, and a buffalo horn one. I'd also like to look for a BIG soap mug, and a starter soap, along with one of those bleed pens. They stink like an sob, but beats putting tissue on it, only to rip that off later. I've heard there are better things, and if I find a shop, will ask. Hopefully the shop owner makes his employees familiarize themselves with the goods.
I went through both of my medsets. Not perfectly. I'm still missing a quarter of my doses. But it isn't from lack of effort. I simply can't always focus. I do my absolute best. Still, I didn't let the medsets go, and miss medicines today. It's a day by day thing. I already need to order three of my medicines. Where does it go! I thought I just ordered those. Over and over, more and more, never ahead. They say there are enough for 90 days in those, but I don't think there could be. I'm going to count the next sets that come through. Losarten and the water pill, both, out. Well, I was able to fill the first two week pillset, and there is a day or two more water pill, and the Losarten stretched to fill both two week sets, but... Didn't I just order both of those? I am sure I did. Then again, while I feel every second, personally, life outside of me runs on a funny clock. Again, funny isn't so funny as I use it, but in a different non-funny funny way as the other funny. Funny how many ways funny isn't funny?
Oh, right. I ought to get a shower going, just because. Later.
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
Moody.
.
.
Post this, or not. Eat or sleep. Comment? Yes, no, both? How. Never makes sense, from moment to moment. Sometimes I'm crashing, sometimes ghosts are pummeling me, next, who knows. Yeah, but I did make it to 16:00 and change. I don't feel all that bad, just a little rough, tired, and slightly dizzy. High school kids experiment their little minds out trying to feel this way. And... I'd give this if they could take it. Well, college kids anyway. I'd not wish to play a part in delinquent debauchery.
Yeah, but it is bedtime. It's taken five days, I believe, but I have finally nearly got my days and nights squared. It'll take another week, perhaps, to twist it around and square that off evenly, then try to stabilize it. Yeah, bedtime. Sounds so very good. Medicines first, oh and a call. Good night.
.
Post this, or not. Eat or sleep. Comment? Yes, no, both? How. Never makes sense, from moment to moment. Sometimes I'm crashing, sometimes ghosts are pummeling me, next, who knows. Yeah, but I did make it to 16:00 and change. I don't feel all that bad, just a little rough, tired, and slightly dizzy. High school kids experiment their little minds out trying to feel this way. And... I'd give this if they could take it. Well, college kids anyway. I'd not wish to play a part in delinquent debauchery.
Yeah, but it is bedtime. It's taken five days, I believe, but I have finally nearly got my days and nights squared. It'll take another week, perhaps, to twist it around and square that off evenly, then try to stabilize it. Yeah, bedtime. Sounds so very good. Medicines first, oh and a call. Good night.
Haiku Monday - Broken
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.
She is up with the contest here. Becca's rules are simple and straightforward, pretty much. Just do it! Guidelines. Even with the short notice, I think I can pull something together. The theme is completely unfamiliar to me, but I will try.
.
She is up with the contest here. Becca's rules are simple and straightforward, pretty much. Just do it! Guidelines. Even with the short notice, I think I can pull something together. The theme is completely unfamiliar to me, but I will try.
moments of joy, love
memories so fond - a life
gifted, fun - shattered
impotent rage flows
tears of hate anger frustration
no answer - only grief
bought all of it
got it stored, here and there,
prepped - null account
Without a whisper.
.
.
That is how it happened.
.
That is how it happened.
According to popular folklore, the only Spartans with their names on their tombstones were those who died doing their greatest duty; men who died in battle and women who died in childbirth.
- Similar with the Aztecs: Women who died in childbirth were considered heroines the same way as men who either died in battle or were sacrificed to the gods. The tombstone of one of them would become a shrine, and if the baby died as well, the dead mom's hands would be cut off and placed next to the baby's corpse as if they were holding him/her.
- And again similar with the Vikings - historians believe that death in childbirth for the Vikings was equivalent to death in battle, and guaranteed entry into Valhalla.
Monday, March 31, 2014
A few more hours.
.
.
This is becoming murderously torturous. I am making it. My days and nights are shifting. But it is killing me. Cripples, I sometimes think, shouldn't dream of being strong, doing their own will. And yet I can't help but continue to do so. As usual, the last hours are the worst. Now that I have managed to figure to sleep enough, the mornings aren't bad. Just the usual drudgery that mornings, and waking time, usually is. A few hours for the clouds to lift and I'm sort of ready for something.
Today? Just a meal. Burritos. The avocados didn't seem ripe enough, but there is plenty of leftovers to eat them with tomorrow. On a side note, my cast iron skillet is about as perfectly seasoned as one could imagine. I suppose, in a year or three, it will be even more so. Even so, at this point, it will be protected from women and soap. At one time women were wise. Now, just expedient, wasteful, and happily in most cases. Many would just as soon destroy something, even something of quality, merely so they can go buy something new. A few women have chosen a wiser path, but not many. /grump
The thing with a fresh meal, cooked, and served, my way, is that nothing else quite tastes like it. My blend of spices, depth of cooking, attention to smaller details, when I make a complete meal, is like little else out there. A woman to cook in the main, with me backing up, and then doing a main meal a couple of times a week, would work out just about perfectly. The only way to improve cooking skills is to do it, and then to have someone critique. I'm good at both, and enjoy solid critique, and can give it.
Sure got thirsty just now. Six 16 ounce glasses of water and I could use more. Hmm, maybe milk. That actually wets my whistle when water is leaving me thirsty. Either that or some apple vinegar. Gotta be careful mixing those. Cottage cheese stomach, on the sour side. Though... sometimes that's just an interesting tickle. Depends on my mood. Milk it is.
I'll just grumble through two or three, maybe four, more hours then grumble on to bed. *grumble*
Later, or good night.
.
This is becoming murderously torturous. I am making it. My days and nights are shifting. But it is killing me. Cripples, I sometimes think, shouldn't dream of being strong, doing their own will. And yet I can't help but continue to do so. As usual, the last hours are the worst. Now that I have managed to figure to sleep enough, the mornings aren't bad. Just the usual drudgery that mornings, and waking time, usually is. A few hours for the clouds to lift and I'm sort of ready for something.
Today? Just a meal. Burritos. The avocados didn't seem ripe enough, but there is plenty of leftovers to eat them with tomorrow. On a side note, my cast iron skillet is about as perfectly seasoned as one could imagine. I suppose, in a year or three, it will be even more so. Even so, at this point, it will be protected from women and soap. At one time women were wise. Now, just expedient, wasteful, and happily in most cases. Many would just as soon destroy something, even something of quality, merely so they can go buy something new. A few women have chosen a wiser path, but not many. /grump
The thing with a fresh meal, cooked, and served, my way, is that nothing else quite tastes like it. My blend of spices, depth of cooking, attention to smaller details, when I make a complete meal, is like little else out there. A woman to cook in the main, with me backing up, and then doing a main meal a couple of times a week, would work out just about perfectly. The only way to improve cooking skills is to do it, and then to have someone critique. I'm good at both, and enjoy solid critique, and can give it.
Sure got thirsty just now. Six 16 ounce glasses of water and I could use more. Hmm, maybe milk. That actually wets my whistle when water is leaving me thirsty. Either that or some apple vinegar. Gotta be careful mixing those. Cottage cheese stomach, on the sour side. Though... sometimes that's just an interesting tickle. Depends on my mood. Milk it is.
I'll just grumble through two or three, maybe four, more hours then grumble on to bed. *grumble*
Later, or good night.
Haunted, by my own foolish methods.
.
.
I had a sense of things, not long ago. The winds, being what they are, and birdies with their little secrets whispered into the ears of Doom, I found myself naked and alone on a distant unknown shore. As I traveled the land I found what I had been promised. I shared it out. Letting go of what I find often lets me travel my way otherwise unmolested. Often. Not this time.
.
I had a sense of things, not long ago. The winds, being what they are, and birdies with their little secrets whispered into the ears of Doom, I found myself naked and alone on a distant unknown shore. As I traveled the land I found what I had been promised. I shared it out. Letting go of what I find often lets me travel my way otherwise unmolested. Often. Not this time.
Good, good.
.
.
I made it to 15:00 before settling in. I set the alarm for 1:00, waking at about midnight. I had, again, to force myself back to sleep when waking at 22:00. That was within range, seven to eight hours of sleep is the goal. But if I can I like to push it to eight hours, at least when I am leaning on my wake time. A little extra sleep is better than too little. Just an hour jump, but I will take it.
As I mentioned, my body sometimes does it's own thing. I have two choices, fight it and lose, or get ahead of it and try to lead. Leading with a carrot works much better than following with a stick, though neither method is guaranteed. My flesh will not always do what it is told and not much, not on earth, hell, or even heaven, can dissuade it. Luckily, it isn't a thing of evil. Sleep, food, and a few other things are all it cares about, and just as it needs. It's not a thing of want. A mule, or even elephant. When I was healthy, and could guide it more surely, I did move mountains. I impressed the people who commanded me beyond... well... That was another time. And I frightened them too. Eyeful respect for an unknown, I would say more truly. Killing them all was not a problem, and that is something all mortals fear, even if they think they command that capacity.
I let the girls sleep with me last night. It's a lot like letting your kids sleep with you. Good, once in a while, but it can throw sleep off. Can't roll as one might like. But it's comforting too. On the good side, the girls help me wake when it is time. I just whisper "food", and they have learned how to gently, without claws, tickle poppo awake. Not so much whiskers in the face. That's a bit too raw. But getting under a hand, as if petting themselves, or walking on me. All good, so long as they aren't brutal about it. I have taught them that poppo is the king of brutal, if they are to be princesses, they must be demure. Honey, not thorns, and poppo is theirs to own. What is funny is that, often, especially Sassy... she isn't much more awake than I am. Sometimes I have to move her aside to kick my legs out of bed. She'll just stand in the way, half napping, but looking right at me. Silly girl.
.
I made it to 15:00 before settling in. I set the alarm for 1:00, waking at about midnight. I had, again, to force myself back to sleep when waking at 22:00. That was within range, seven to eight hours of sleep is the goal. But if I can I like to push it to eight hours, at least when I am leaning on my wake time. A little extra sleep is better than too little. Just an hour jump, but I will take it.
As I mentioned, my body sometimes does it's own thing. I have two choices, fight it and lose, or get ahead of it and try to lead. Leading with a carrot works much better than following with a stick, though neither method is guaranteed. My flesh will not always do what it is told and not much, not on earth, hell, or even heaven, can dissuade it. Luckily, it isn't a thing of evil. Sleep, food, and a few other things are all it cares about, and just as it needs. It's not a thing of want. A mule, or even elephant. When I was healthy, and could guide it more surely, I did move mountains. I impressed the people who commanded me beyond... well... That was another time. And I frightened them too. Eyeful respect for an unknown, I would say more truly. Killing them all was not a problem, and that is something all mortals fear, even if they think they command that capacity.
I let the girls sleep with me last night. It's a lot like letting your kids sleep with you. Good, once in a while, but it can throw sleep off. Can't roll as one might like. But it's comforting too. On the good side, the girls help me wake when it is time. I just whisper "food", and they have learned how to gently, without claws, tickle poppo awake. Not so much whiskers in the face. That's a bit too raw. But getting under a hand, as if petting themselves, or walking on me. All good, so long as they aren't brutal about it. I have taught them that poppo is the king of brutal, if they are to be princesses, they must be demure. Honey, not thorns, and poppo is theirs to own. What is funny is that, often, especially Sassy... she isn't much more awake than I am. Sometimes I have to move her aside to kick my legs out of bed. She'll just stand in the way, half napping, but looking right at me. Silly girl.
Sunday, March 30, 2014
Trying to make it a little longer.
.
.
It looks like I will be able to make it to 14:00, but no further. I made a few mistakes, and will correct that in the future. Still, making it to 14:00 is okay, for today. And I did get out last night. Nothing fancy but it is enough. I'll call and cancel dinner for tonight and tomorrow.
In trying to stay up, I could focus on little. It's actually painful to try to focus. And yet I did. While I can beat other people at 100%, at sudoku, I wanted to see how fast I could do the simplest puzzle. I started at about 33 seconds. Little by little, I whittled that down to 16 seconds. I suppose I could try to push that, but it seems I have become old and slow, so I doubt it. It isn't just memory, but that doesn't hurt. Well, and I am peculiarly particular, I just have this thing, where I just can't put a number just because I know it goes there. It has to make sense, in the puzzle, to my mind, even on speed runs. Now, that is the simplest game level, but... still... I am happy with that. Especially since I am pushing my bedtime doing it. I just hope numbers don't gang up on me in my sleep!
Good night.
.
It looks like I will be able to make it to 14:00, but no further. I made a few mistakes, and will correct that in the future. Still, making it to 14:00 is okay, for today. And I did get out last night. Nothing fancy but it is enough. I'll call and cancel dinner for tonight and tomorrow.
In trying to stay up, I could focus on little. It's actually painful to try to focus. And yet I did. While I can beat other people at 100%, at sudoku, I wanted to see how fast I could do the simplest puzzle. I started at about 33 seconds. Little by little, I whittled that down to 16 seconds. I suppose I could try to push that, but it seems I have become old and slow, so I doubt it. It isn't just memory, but that doesn't hurt. Well, and I am peculiarly particular, I just have this thing, where I just can't put a number just because I know it goes there. It has to make sense, in the puzzle, to my mind, even on speed runs. Now, that is the simplest game level, but... still... I am happy with that. Especially since I am pushing my bedtime doing it. I just hope numbers don't gang up on me in my sleep!
Good night.
The last few hours are difficult.
.
.
I've made it to 10:30 without too much difficulty. But my body just doesn't want to go further. Sometimes it seems like I'm a brain working with a mule. It can, and does, up and stop. It won't go until it wants to go. And it goes and does what it wants, when it wants, as it sees fit. It will work with me, if it can. If not, I get to follow it until it does what I wish it to do. I've learned that a sense of humor about the thing is far more productive than a whip. This is also the part that frustrates women folk the most. Only they blame me, not the mule. Sometimes there is no explaining to a woman. Not when she wants the mule to go the other way and I have no more control than she does. :)
Desert Cat would probably say that's just part of being a natural sigma. Sigma is it. Yeah, I never remember. Too much information, and I don't really worry about all that. Look, for being an ogre, and not a particularly handsome one, I do okay. But I don't really go much further. Oh, and... by the way... the next time... Never mind. Just know that some things are in the works. I have worked out the path I am going to take, is all. The target has been set, the trajectory is locked in, and it is in the works. Lord knows I'm a fool, but I am His fool. So... More, at another time, perhaps. I love me some mystery!
As to the posts of late. Just contemplate John 9:1-41. Or don't. Teaching people to see isn't always a simple, or clean, thing to do. And so... *scoop* In your eyes. Wash that out and may you see. I'm not as good, or gentle, as He was. But then I'm not Him. Then again, when He returns, He won't be as you knew Him, or think you know Him now. He'll be just a tadge more like me than the modern pharisees and sadducees might like. Never the worry. If you are indeed a sheep. Or, hopefully, even something like me.
A cup of joe might help me stretch the time out. But there is no way I will make it to suppertime. The Lord knows how hard I am trying. He knows how much I suffer doing this. And He probably wonders why. Hmm, maybe not. He made us to be perfect, and to strive. Still, He knows the effort. I do belief He blesses it. He knows, in a greater part, I do this for Him. No, not so that days are available, but to reclaim my life and health, so that I may serve when called, even just living the life He gifted me in a more functional way. Yeah, He knows. And, yes, I do try.
.
I've made it to 10:30 without too much difficulty. But my body just doesn't want to go further. Sometimes it seems like I'm a brain working with a mule. It can, and does, up and stop. It won't go until it wants to go. And it goes and does what it wants, when it wants, as it sees fit. It will work with me, if it can. If not, I get to follow it until it does what I wish it to do. I've learned that a sense of humor about the thing is far more productive than a whip. This is also the part that frustrates women folk the most. Only they blame me, not the mule. Sometimes there is no explaining to a woman. Not when she wants the mule to go the other way and I have no more control than she does. :)
Desert Cat would probably say that's just part of being a natural sigma. Sigma is it. Yeah, I never remember. Too much information, and I don't really worry about all that. Look, for being an ogre, and not a particularly handsome one, I do okay. But I don't really go much further. Oh, and... by the way... the next time... Never mind. Just know that some things are in the works. I have worked out the path I am going to take, is all. The target has been set, the trajectory is locked in, and it is in the works. Lord knows I'm a fool, but I am His fool. So... More, at another time, perhaps. I love me some mystery!
As to the posts of late. Just contemplate John 9:1-41. Or don't. Teaching people to see isn't always a simple, or clean, thing to do. And so... *scoop* In your eyes. Wash that out and may you see. I'm not as good, or gentle, as He was. But then I'm not Him. Then again, when He returns, He won't be as you knew Him, or think you know Him now. He'll be just a tadge more like me than the modern pharisees and sadducees might like. Never the worry. If you are indeed a sheep. Or, hopefully, even something like me.
A cup of joe might help me stretch the time out. But there is no way I will make it to suppertime. The Lord knows how hard I am trying. He knows how much I suffer doing this. And He probably wonders why. Hmm, maybe not. He made us to be perfect, and to strive. Still, He knows the effort. I do belief He blesses it. He knows, in a greater part, I do this for Him. No, not so that days are available, but to reclaim my life and health, so that I may serve when called, even just living the life He gifted me in a more functional way. Yeah, He knows. And, yes, I do try.
Sort of cute.
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Someone has been going back, looking up specific topics. Yes, boys and girls, Doom is a hard hard thing. Given a choice between this and that, to the best of my ability, right or wrong, I will choose. And those choices are no easier than the outcomes. I speak it, without a doubt. The time is coming, things are changing.
I muss about with what I see. Am I the embodiment of War, the rider of the red horse? Or do I just see through his eyes? Don't know, don't care, but I have certainly identified with him. Am I nephelim? Does it matter? Stories, for all intents and purposes, all of it. But not without some truths. Given few options I will make the hard choices. But the truth is, even if I don't, the die is cast.
.
Someone has been going back, looking up specific topics. Yes, boys and girls, Doom is a hard hard thing. Given a choice between this and that, to the best of my ability, right or wrong, I will choose. And those choices are no easier than the outcomes. I speak it, without a doubt. The time is coming, things are changing.
I muss about with what I see. Am I the embodiment of War, the rider of the red horse? Or do I just see through his eyes? Don't know, don't care, but I have certainly identified with him. Am I nephelim? Does it matter? Stories, for all intents and purposes, all of it. But not without some truths. Given few options I will make the hard choices. But the truth is, even if I don't, the die is cast.
Nothing like cruising the night.
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I did make it to the store, and then to McDonalds. Just a free meal, essentially. No prep, no dishes, no nothing. Then home. On the way I remembered to stop at the post office. There was the normal, and the flashlight I had been waiting on. It should have arrived with the other items, and was listed as having arrived. I thought to register the item as lost, but I had this... feeling. And while I may seem dark, I do play honest. No, I just had this sense that the thing was not lost. The package had been taped up. My guess is that it went to the wrong box, was opened, more or less mistakenly, and then nearly lost before it was returned. It was worth the wait. It has three settings, manipulated by turning it on and off quickly. It is very short range, but quite bright, and that is all exactly why I bought it. Search beams are great when you are searching, little, controllable lights are excellent for doing you little thing in your little place and want to muss or fuss. Yum.
I can see where the keychain will fail. I already have a few notions about how to fix that. I still have the one I purchased for the interim, and it will have it's uses and a place as well. Actually, I will keep that one near the bed. It is extremely dim, and doesn't adjust, but the batteries last forever. It is the type of light I want to work with when waking in the dark, if I bother. I usually don't need lights, but when I do, after having been asleep... dim is the operative word.
I bought a number of carmex while at the store. That stuff is handy. Further, add it to kindling and you have a sure fire. There are other uses for it as well. There are only a few things you absolutely need. Any extras you have, while nice, if they don't have applications toward the basics, as backups, they are extra dead weight. I have learned to live on seemingly less than air. And it isn't a problem. But if I don't have to, I won't. That reminds me, I need to test the tinder I made. Grilling a brisket, smoking it too, would be an excellent excuse to use that. I would like to get out some of my firestarters, and test those too. I've never used them, to this point. Mostly gimmicks, but gimmicks that work. I say gimmikcs, because none of them will last more than a year or two... just buying you time to figure out firestarting the old fashioned way, in an extreme case of civil, social, and economic failure. Then again, everything about prepping, given that measure, is a gimmick. So be it. I'd rather be the ant than the cricket, innit?
Later.
.
I did make it to the store, and then to McDonalds. Just a free meal, essentially. No prep, no dishes, no nothing. Then home. On the way I remembered to stop at the post office. There was the normal, and the flashlight I had been waiting on. It should have arrived with the other items, and was listed as having arrived. I thought to register the item as lost, but I had this... feeling. And while I may seem dark, I do play honest. No, I just had this sense that the thing was not lost. The package had been taped up. My guess is that it went to the wrong box, was opened, more or less mistakenly, and then nearly lost before it was returned. It was worth the wait. It has three settings, manipulated by turning it on and off quickly. It is very short range, but quite bright, and that is all exactly why I bought it. Search beams are great when you are searching, little, controllable lights are excellent for doing you little thing in your little place and want to muss or fuss. Yum.
I can see where the keychain will fail. I already have a few notions about how to fix that. I still have the one I purchased for the interim, and it will have it's uses and a place as well. Actually, I will keep that one near the bed. It is extremely dim, and doesn't adjust, but the batteries last forever. It is the type of light I want to work with when waking in the dark, if I bother. I usually don't need lights, but when I do, after having been asleep... dim is the operative word.
I bought a number of carmex while at the store. That stuff is handy. Further, add it to kindling and you have a sure fire. There are other uses for it as well. There are only a few things you absolutely need. Any extras you have, while nice, if they don't have applications toward the basics, as backups, they are extra dead weight. I have learned to live on seemingly less than air. And it isn't a problem. But if I don't have to, I won't. That reminds me, I need to test the tinder I made. Grilling a brisket, smoking it too, would be an excellent excuse to use that. I would like to get out some of my firestarters, and test those too. I've never used them, to this point. Mostly gimmicks, but gimmicks that work. I say gimmikcs, because none of them will last more than a year or two... just buying you time to figure out firestarting the old fashioned way, in an extreme case of civil, social, and economic failure. Then again, everything about prepping, given that measure, is a gimmick. So be it. I'd rather be the ant than the cricket, innit?
Later.
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