I just kept sleeping.

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I woke many times today.  Everything hurt.  So I kept sleeping.  I slept, woke, hurt, so went back to sleep, perhaps a dozen times.  Sometimes, usually, I embrace pain.  I simply have to be strong enough for it.  Today was one of those rare days.  Fragility, delicacy, sensitivity, all... maybe more.  I couldn't even tell where all the pain was coming from, what source, where, how.  I wouldn't allow myself to wake enough to find it, and refused to focus on any of it.  I simply allowed sleep to pull me back under for as long as it would.  I don't think I needed the sleep.  I thought I would pay that price.  But upon waking, finally, around 17:00, my body wasn't grumpy at the sleep, and some large portion of the pain has gone.  I did need the easement that sleep allowed.

I brushed my teeth, stretched.  Boy did that hurt, in the short run.  Yelped, for a while.  But it seems to have sent the pain away, in the longer run.  A shower shortly.  Medicine as I think of it now.  I have stopped insulin for a day or two.  I was way too dosed on that stuff.  I will start over, Saturday or Sunday, on a much reduced dose.  That stuff was going to kill me.  Even on lower doses it was having traumatic effects.  I am sure that is what was causing the problem, beyond a doubt.  The burning has stopped since I quit, at least at that level.  It is much faded, though I suspect it will still come and go.  Danced on my own grave, I did.

Actually, I am feeling much better.  Not up to par, even as poor as par can be.  But certainly no longer doing a jig that sent me through the final frontier and back in a zigzag pattern.  Safely away from that door, I merely need to regain strength and mop up some aches and pains.  *zoom*  I have my half-smile, crooked grin, call it what you will, back in my pocket.  Sometimes the front, sometimes the back, pocket.  But when that is with me Death doesn't quite have the nerve to approach.  He thinks I know something he doesn't.  And... I do.  :)

Yeah.  A little time to wake, perhaps another stretch to concentrate and dismiss pain, a shower, and then... who knows.  Later.

Something is still seriously wrong.

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Almost all of it is back.  I will be sleeping, when I can.  When I wake I will begin monitoring blood sugar and pressure.  The heart isn't slowing, as it was.  But the fever and some other things are all back, at full blast.  I have no idea what could be causing this, again, and so soon.  It really doesn't make sense, not this time.  I'll figure it out, or it will go away.  Later, probably good night.

A bit better, again.

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Tired and still sore, again, again.  I might be able to sneak into town, later... early to mid evening.  I just noticed that my friend called.  Not sure why I didn't hear the call though?  Oh, but after a quick check, it's because I was still asleep.  If I can get to it, I'll let him know I am heading to town.  I can't do much.  A bit of shopping and maybe the return of a previous purchase.

I don't mind the pain.  The feverishness that comes and goes, and headache, at least together, are the greater nuisance, and what does bother me.  Bruised all around, though, I am used to that, from more fights than I can, for sure, count... that I know.  And I have no blood on my hands or conscience for it.  The first dozen or so were "fair fights".  My opponents had a chance.  Of course, that was when I was a child, and they were older, bigger, more experienced.  Even having a 3:2 size advantage, several years or more on me, and more experience, they only had a chance.  Most of my fights since then have been brutally one-sided.  Even when they outnumbered me.  I knew it, even then.  But you can't tell a bully you are going to hand him his ass until you learn the language, though not always even then.  Less so a group of bullies.  I knew I was holding back, even so.  I didn't know, or consider, that I had a right to kill or, when being attacked by much bigger or many, I would have killed as young as eight to ten.  I did know how, but did not feel... authorized.  Actually, I have tried dozens of ways of communicating the threat to various sorts.  My tongue, now, is almost as severe as my fists in those situations.  Talking nice isn't the way.  I can send a would-be attacker into a sort of trauma trance.  Foul-tongued devil, I think is what I have been called.  Some knew, in spite of my rudeness, that I was doing the aggressor a favor.  But I also learned when talk would work, and when it wouldn't.  Actually, I don't shout, I whisper the barbs.  A whisper that can be heard for a mile, I am told.  Perhaps not literally, mind you.  Just an expression, probably.

Never mind.  The pain is simply so reminiscent of fighting that it causes recall.  The last group of would be attackers I sent into a tizzy was the defensive front line of the Iowa Hawkeyes.  Some bar in downtown, after a loss.  They did gather, to face off, but would not cross the line they thought they might consider at first.  Ever looked at a bunch of jocks in shellshock?  The cops weren't willing to come in.  The bouncer knew what they were doing was wrong, but wasn't willing to back me, or challenge me.  Go down?  Sure.  Just not even close to alone.  My tongue saved them much pain.  Even then, I am not sure they would have been able to kill me.  I would have killed and broken half of them.  I guess steroids can't bury fear of all things.  I did see the troublemaker, on the streets, a few weeks later.  He was bigger, better built, in much better shape.  He glared, until I saw him, then caught his eyes.  He then lowered his eyes and slipped, or more scampered, away.  Not as a group, certainly not in one-on-one.  Even a roid-head jock, full of himself, knows when he meets something that is dancing on his grave without even a thought.

I also keep thinking of women.  I miss them when homebound.  Getting out once in a while, I dance with the ladies, young, old, pretty, ugly, thin, and between.  So long as they have the right... attitude.  As sisters, daughters, mothers, unrequited loves and lovers, many things these creatures...  Interesting creatures.  I can tell which could make a good wife, which will always be a problem because they have problems, and such.  I also know that how she turns out depends on how the relationship is crafted.  If a man does not bring her what belongs to her, and does not keep her whims in check, some combination of those, she will be on her way.  What is her due?  It's a variable, but it is real.  It is a portion, a tribute.  Some just for her, some for the relationship.  Some of it is money, some of it is time and attention.  Oddly, if you give these things rightly, you need to give less.  She will even insist that you go on.  It isn't the gift, but truly, with a good woman, the thought that counts to a point.  Truly odd.  The other part is allowing her to be a part of the future.  She doesn't, completely, work in details.  Let her set some of the parameters, but do not burden her with every detail or the complete path.  She will weary of it, and you with it.  Some goals, some part.  She needs to own some of herself, including her future.  With the knowledge that dreams are only that, at times.  They are rather strong when they have a base of operation, strong enough to make it through failed dreams, for a time.  Longer if the path was as true as it could be made.  Interesting creatures.  Laudable at their peak, just as deplorable as any man when they fail... perhaps more so within the paradigm of the feminine.  The feminine simply isn't as capable or culpable.  Is it the battleaxe or the a-bomb you fear most?  I suppose it depends on if it is your head or your ass that is targeted with delivery on the way.

Still, I do enjoy women greatly.  I seem to receive quite positive reactions from women I find attractive, in the various ways women can be attractive.  Whether because I am seen as fatherly, or handsome, tall, strong, or what, I do enjoy my encounters with the fey folk.  I would sure enjoy a wife, mostly, troubling as that is.  I have limits, though, and things I wouldn't negotiate, can't.  Since I can't seem my way through, and into, that, I simply enjoy flirtations, offerings of respect for those that might have potential, and a moment outside of time and space that is shared with the little sisters.  I can't wait to get out again.  I hear their calling.  A simple desire to please and be anointed in return, nothing I can't do in the simple and humble ways of a traveler.  As with the return of pains from combat, this time without blood on my hands.  Love is as bloody as war.

Another hour or two, and I will shower and try to ship out.  Not sure it is going to happen.  But that is the goal.  Later.

I do understand the illness.

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Not the cause, completely.  I have had similar, before, but not the same.  I suspect it was the relative dosage of insulin.  Three or four months, and the stuff goes flat.  Reload, in a few days, on high doses of fresh stuff, and something is bound to go very badly.  I felt something with my heart, but couldn't understand it inside of illness.  I realize, now, that it had nearly stopped.  It had nothing to do with heart problems, it was simply my body shutting down in order to... rearrange, figure things out.  My guess is, at times, my heart dropped to a pulse of 40, sometimes less.  Literally, you, on your own, out there, if this happens and doctors aren't on hand working on you, you will not make it.  Me?  I have said it, I don't get to die.

My body is still bruised and sore on the inside.  My heart is beginning to function well.  Other organs that did, or nearly, shut down, are operating again.  But they are sore.  My body feels as if I was in a serious fight, kidneys, lungs, all of them, hurt just a bit.  As if they had been bruised.  I am still in pretty bad shape.  I will remain so.  Tired, for a bit.  But, slowly, coming out of it.  Headache and fever come and go, but much more rarely, and lightly.  A few more days and I should be doing better.  At least I figured this event out.  Now to make sure and not repeat it.  I'll... put something in my calendar, about ordering fresh insulin, every month.  They only send two bottles.  Which makes it really tight, since they wish me to change to a new bottle every month.  And, probably, if this happens again, I will cut the dose on a new bottle, even if it comes just a month late, for whatever reason.  I never know when I will get the next dose.  A week, a few days, a month...  Never mind, I will do what I can.

Later.  Good night, actually.

Love, life, death.

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Short words, long meanings, with implications less than our expressive and more than our simple understandings.  Chips, in a poker game, that perhaps convey the vagaries, complexity, flow, and uncertainty of dollars, economy, fiat and literal wealth and are yet simple constructs of wood, plastic, or metal.  Only understandings as we wish, are required, or refused, to understand as is possible, or not.  Pieces of a game that may or may not be a game, depending on how, or even if, to some degrees, we can or wish to understand.

If you could see me, as I see you?  In my mind, I am something many would choose to end.  Kill, if that word makes any sense regarding some things  Can you kill death?  Can you kill war?  Would you survive killing either, or other such things?  Even in time, when God stands true to your very eyes, what has helped you become an immortal child of God, can you truly kill that without destroying yourselves?  Would you?  Time isn't what it seems.  Changing the past cannot happen without changing the future.  Even the future cannot, in full truth, be changed.  Delayed, maybe, but not changed.  I do not deplore the notion of some of your hopes.  I merely understand that those who share this sentiment, truly... do not understand yourselves at all.  War is not imposed upon you.  It is you.  Any being which might embody that... is your child. 

For my part, I did not know you.  For all of my existence, save when walking among you, as one of you.  Even then, as I realize things now, I am not one of you and never can be.  I can join with you, as family, tribe, co-faithful.  I can marry and have children, extended family, and more.  An impulse of man, cut and limited, for a time, to fit into flesh.  It isn't even a chicken or the egg question.  Which came first is without question or doubt.  Man came first.  So, I am your child.  And, as all children, I will one day be your guardian.  I will be disobedient, I will be faithful, I will be wrong, I will be true.  I will be what you have made of me.  I cannot be more, or less, just that I can act, possibly, in all of you.  Though it is hoped, through blood, toil, and calling, that I will not simply be a construct, a chip, for another to play.  Rules, laws, truths, to be sure, create limits.  Just not the same for me and you.  The riders are of your making, your choosing, your design, now as always.  But there is hope for more.  But a time will come when we are called home.  This, too, is in your hands.  Alien?  Yes, and no.  I am not you, I am a piece of all of you.  Aye, yes, I finally understand.

I get to see inside of death as few others can.  I do have a... respect for it.  It is said that one of the archangels carries this burden, gift, light, and darkness at times.  It is said that one of my brothers carries this also.  One a son of God, one a bit different, perhaps a son of the sons of God and son of Adam as well.  Definitely a child of man.  I have seen more from the other side than from this side.  My recent illness probably brought me closer to the other side, even here and now, than most of you will ever know until you are on your final journey.  I miss that side.  I am not cut and pasted, limited by flesh, or even passion.  I also do not believe, now, again, that I am without passion, there, either.  It is simply different.  I understand, without reservation, the fullness of passion and compassion, and life and death are not so much a mystery or question, just... variables in the equation.  Pain, likewise, is merely part of the solution set, no matter how great.

Thoughts, dreams, daydreams, visions, as I wake from my walk on this side, and that, of the veil.  Most potent events, most potent sights.  I will be better in a few days and will find my way back to being a mouse.  Perhaps a mouse with a roar that can rend mountains, but a mouse none the less.  Until it is time to fulfill my destiny, or yours.  My system is slowly mending.  If I were as you, I would have been dead.  I may even have been dead, for a bit, even so.  As for you?  Choose wisely.  You can't choose some things.  What you may choose is very simple, as are all poker chips, and bets.

Good day.

Figured it out?

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Maybe.  I am supposed to change vials of insulin every month.  I don't, because I forget to do that itself, or forget to order, which is a similar, but different, failing.  This time I used a bottle of insulin nearly until it was gone.  On top of a period of very sporadic use.  So, a few days to a week ago, when I switched to a new batch after, probably, 3 or more months using the same vial, taking almost as many cc's as the syringe I use will hold...  I dosed, then over, then maybe triple dosed.  Day one might not have been a problem, but at some point...  That is what caused that odd tick in my chest.  That is what made me feel inebriated, and probably made me think that drink might fix it.  When that sort of thing has happened in the past, heavy drinking has helped.  It pushes a great deal of fluid through my system, which is more important when my body, naturally through illness, gets like that.  As is, drinking, now, makes the situation worse.  Now I do understand.

I don't know that this is all of it.  It doesn't explain recent cases.  And it doesn't explain my friends being ill.  Probably.  My friends might just be as funny as I am.  Funny is a funny word for funny.  And brown bottle flu can catch.  Not sure that was their issue, even modified by illness.  Never sure.  I have my doubts.  By the way, if you feel watched, you may well be.  These new lights that have been forced on us?  Many of them have other abilities.  One of them is the ability to spy.

Later.

Odd.

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All of the other symptoms disappeared quickly.  The aches, pains, seeming sensitivity to heat.  All but minor palpitations.  Very minor.  I am not even sure if they are heart related.  Just... trust me.  There are other things that can cause minor... internal hiccups.  The lungs, major arteries, perhaps just nerve communication problems.  My heart electrical is in as top-notch shape as are my arteries.  I have felt this before, it simply hasn't ever been identified, even while my heart was being actively monitored.  So, I suspect it isn't that.  Then again, medical isn't all that good.  It doesn't seem to understand the body, or specific individuals, very well or even at all in some cases.

I am resting well enough today.  I am still weary.  I may end up in bed before too long, again, tonight.  I do have some hope that I am able to stay asleep tonight.  Watching shows, and the movies that correspond with those.  I was a great deal more secular back then, if some of what Hollywood does is always disturbing, and is meant to be.  They think they are avante garde, instead of the trash they actually are.  Drug users, rich, power brokers, they often try to present their debauchery of all things as the way forward to cover for their guilt in it.  The first trick Satan deployed was denying that he existed.  This is just one of the methods.

Still, it is interesting to revisit some of the material.  Unfortunately, in spite of having thought I had ordered the complete set, it seems some of the movies are not in the collection.  I don't believe I was any other collections.  Perhaps some parts are only sold individually.  While I have my reservations, thinking one has a complete collection, only to find there are missing pieces, is irritating.

The hope is, that tomorrow, I can figure out how to get to town.  Just a bit of shopping.  Groceries is all.  Hmm, though it would be nice to return the failed timer system and see if anything else is available.  Troubling, really.  I liked the system.  And it is merely one part, but a vital part, that failed.  There was only one.  Unless they have another one in, I can't simply replace the kit.  And, by parts, it will be more expensive.  That is, assuming I can make it back to town, and that after grocery shopping that I will have enough energy to continue to the hardware store. 

At least I have food.  The ribroast was cut into thick slices, but it is a bit much to eat even so.  I took one of the slices and sliced and heated those slices, which ended up making an extremely good couple of sandwiches.  Milk, and a can of splenda soda, finished the meal.  While I am over most of the other symptoms, when I eat I am getting gassy and having g.i. discomfort.  It doesn't seem to matter what I eat.  Food won't be staying in my system long enough for me to get optimal caloric use, so I will probably need to eat more often, and in smaller amounts.  Something like an anatomic reverse bleeding of the break lines... or... something along those lines.  Never mind, just saying that not all symptoms are gone, or fully.  This sort of thing usually occurs at the end of an illness.  I was expecting it.

Later, maybe good night.

Flavor is different.

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I am not feeling most of the other flu-like symptoms.  Or, not yet.  That does come and go.  My ribs feel like I have gone a full match with a near equal.  It's not as if the wounds were fresh, more like a few days to a week old.  Not fresh, but no really mended yet either.  The guy I fought with has a heck of a hook, is primarily right handed, and has a bit of an uppercut.  Going by the pain, and how it sits on me.  Yeah, I've actually been in enough fights to put these things into play.  It doesn't always, exactly, line up with what I have remembered from the fight.  But you never know which punch will get through your defenses, or which one was thrown with all he had at the moment.  To be honest though, I would rather feel like I had been in a fight than have that feverish panoply of flu symptoms.  Then again, I know that will be returning before long. 

More?  My heart is stumbling.  I thought it was just while I was in bed.  It is not.  Troubling, to be sure.  Especially since I am taking medicines correctly.  Oh, it happens from time to time.  It hasn't been, so far, more than something that makes me nervous.  And it does.  It is so rare that I have never gone through when being checked by a doctor.  Once to three times a year, at most.  Actually, the first time it happened, I did tell my doctor, back in I.C.  He attached a device that would read any problems, and found nothing.  Then again, I can't remember if my heart actually stumbled while the device was worn.  I think so, at this time, but don't recall for sure.  Then again, most testing doesn't even show that I have heart problems.  It takes rather intensive testing for it to show up.  Never mind, as I said, that comes and goes.  I just hate when it arrives when other stuff arrives.  Doubly nervous.

Alright, I'll admit it.  I have had an odd dream four times in the last few months.  I think I am channeling the guy who first owned this home.  Three wives.  Various stories.  Last night he started out with two wives and then ended up marrying the third time.  Various details I don't with to surrender until I know if they fit historically.  And, I won't swear that it was the guy, I just have a sense.  From my dreams, I am right that multiple marriages aren't as fun as most think, they aren't quite as horrible as I had presumed, perhaps even dreamed before.  No, not an endorsement.  It's actually easier for women.  But for men, as usual, it is a lot more work.  A man has to solid up in such a case.  He has much less room for negotiations, and once those are settled, he cannot abide changes, save for his own purposes, literal needs and changes, and such.  If he changes things, after an agreement, he will never know a night's rest the rest of his haunted days.  And while some men love the idea of that, the reality of it is a little stifling.  And it is much easier to make mistakes when you are indeed king.  And, remember, even a king is a slave to his people.  He really is.  There is no easy way in life.  Different ways, wiser and more foolish ways, but easy is not in there.  Actually, the simpler you try to force it to be, or the more gain you attempt to dig out of reality, the harder it gets.  Ask drug addicts.  Even if they do quit, and never start again, they will always be an addict, broken and weak to ideas, substances, and such, which eat people alive.  The wealthy and powerful have it no differently.

As for today?  Just in recovery of sorts.  It feels so hot, and yet the sun has been mostly under for days.  I have the AC running, but it just isn't enough.  If what I am dealing with is a fever, at least it doesn't feel like a fever.  It just feels like a heated environment.  Much preferred, given the option.  I can't really eat.  I am a bit nervous of illness returning.  Maybe a glass of milk, from time to time, perhaps something else.  Rice, with butter, isn't too hard on my system.  I need to recover a bit, so as to get some shopping done in town.  That will happen when it will.  I don't have much input on when health returns.  I will take my medicine, eat what and when I can, keep cool, and rest as I may.  I've had worse.  And will probably go through worse on the way to doing well again.

If healthy, may you stay that way.  If ill, I hope you find your way to health sooner rather than later.  Good day.

Sick, hard, bad.

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Whatever is wrong it is pretty harsh.  The fever from some time back, and flu-like symptoms, are back.  A mild headache, some skeletal-muscle aches and pains, stomach upset.  No nasal block or drip.  Tired.  Whatever it is, it is taxing my system.  Medicines have been going in lock clockwork, and seem to be working.  This isn't them, it isn't from strain, it isn't from too much rest, but it is ticking my days and nights over.  I was able to go to bed at 20:00, but couldn't stay asleep.  Actually I didn't have a choice.  I had to sleep, and did for a few hours.  I am heading back to bed at 2:00, which is earlier than I have been able to sleep for days now.

Never mind.  It will pass, as it did before.  However, I suspect illness is being spread.  Those who are strong enough will survive.  Those who aren't will die.  And that won't always be who one might easily suspect.  The invasion that has hit America brings with it new viruses, new strains, strains partially bolstered by poor medical care and ignorant and poor people for whom a doctors orders mean little.  When self-preservation becomes extremely limited, down to just getting food, long term self-preservation, such as taking a full compliment of antibiotics, becomes meaningless.  Another reason to not support functionaries, such as those who serve in doctors without borders.  There good deeds sound more like personal satisfactions, and beliefs in feeling good about themselves, than of doing good, or wise, things.  I do have questions.  They don't have good answers.  The secular never do.  It's about them.  And, really, we are all worthless, in the grand schemes, unless that is all we have.  If there is nothing greater, then those who are worthless will create disaster, chaos, and spread disease so as to feel good about nothingness.  I think this will only be getting worse until, or unless, the decision to repatriate, without doubts, reservations, qualifications, or anything else, is made and acted upon.  Even then, there will be many losses.

For now I will suffer through.  As weak as my system is, it is yet too strong to succumb.  Probably.  My friends were all ill as well.  None of us travel much, staying home more than not.  I wonder how many others, mostly young and old, who are going to have trouble.  Time will tell.  As our medical field is turning into a bureaucracy, I doubt if it cares.  The more who die, if more expensive in the short run, the cheaper in the long run.  Attacked, in every way, from every side, by one's own government, medical, academic, political, security, intelligence, and perhaps in time military.  They think you deserve it.  They need you to deserve it.  It'll prove them right.  And, as you already know, if you have debated the left, they are always right.  And the ends justify the means.  Now you will get a chance to understand that much more fully.

Good night.

A rather rough day.

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I was correct.  Whatever is wrong had nothing to do with the alcohol.  It started before the drinking and is running through to well past recovery.  These things will come and go.  God knows it is miraculous for me to even be alive, toss in living on my own, and some other things, and...  Suffering is not a choice.  I can't fix that.  I can only turn that over to a higher authority.  It is pretty much all I have to offer.  On the good side, I have it in spades.

I am prepping for their arrival.  Nothing much, but the meat is being tended.  Potatoes soon.  A shower earlier.  That is about as good as it gets.  The meat will be more done than what I had hoped, but that's shouldn't be too bad.  It will be pleasant to have company.  To eat as a group.  And to talk, discuss plans other than those of my own, and just enjoy company.

I will probably not do much else this week.  Tired, a bit ill, sore, but I can relax a bit.  It is the hottest time of summer.  And yet storms have been coming and going.  All good, I simply must learn to enjoy as I may.  Sometimes that means working, sometimes that means resting.  At least the I have the series to watch.  I am not up to playing the game at the level I need to play it.  So... yeah... something to watch is good enough, for now.  A bit of AC when needed or wanted.  A bit of food as I can. 

Later.

Well, yes. Postponed.

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Thankfully they weren't terribly ready for the day.  More to do than they felt up to, and too little time, plus some shopping remaining.  For me, I just can't get going.  The weather is changing and I am still... getting back onto my feet.  A couple of, for me, busy weeks, a change in weather, and a bit deeply... or actually just very quickly, into the cup and...

I am just watching shows and trying to figure the world out.  No real naval gazing.  Recovering from it all.  I should be back to life in a few days.  Then I'll get back to planning.  I still haven't read the post I put up and shut back down.  Sometimes those things are best left where they belong.  A psychic bowel movement, a dislodging of poisons, bacteria, and viruses of the soul.  I may be nothing, but nothing is everything so I won't lay claim to that.  I can't humble myself to that of a servant, no Father wishes that.  Nor can I lay claim to my inheritance, and I'm not sure there is one, for me.  So, I just do.  Not quite a ranch hand, not the owner, not a king, not a serf, not even nobility or a knight, even if some of those things may once have had some truth, as men see things.  I only know the direction, and reason for going in that direction.  Thankfully, I know I do not have to move an inch to get there.  There, is here, even if it is beyond the rim of reality as well.  Magic, and yet simple physics.  The next time you are there, with someone who is far away, because of a phone, you will understand.

Anyway...  I'll figure out how long to roast the beef through the evening, and set the grill up for a long roast.  I will wash the potatoes and have them ready to go in at 16:30 or so.  And then I will watch some more shows, take a shower, try to hit it a bit earlier tonight, and set the alarm for as reasonable a rise, tomorrow so as to have the meat cooked and all else set.  Later.

A call.

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It's always good to speak with family, parents more so.  The older I get, the more important that becomes.  It takes time to figure some things out, to mature, to understand.  Mothers are female, thus alien.  No matter how many I have known, or how well I understand some things, how, why, and what they think, and more importantly for them feel, can never quite be a known quantity.  I sort of suspect that women more resonate than use logic.  I will admit, men aren't perfectly capable of logic ourselves.  It's just that we strive for that.  That doesn't even mean, when we do use logic, and well, that we are always any more correct.  Much as trying to use science to decipher the bible, there are some things that cannot... be derived through math, logic, science.  That doesn't mean they are right, always, either.  They seem to have a very different priority and social system.  Never mind, there remains enough crossover, mutual allowance once maturity has hit, and such, that communication is worth it. 

We were discussing pain and exhaustion.  She bottled 36 quarts of corn yesterday, or froze?  Something.  She is sore and hurting today.  Her ailments are different, but age has put us closer to a similar place in life.  Actually, she is still in better shape.  But then my body really is still almost dead.  However, she, as I, in health and youth, were both hard workers, in our own ways.  Now, when either of us works, we pay.  And yet neither of us is quite ready to give anything up.  I did suggest, however, that while work does bring pain and exhaustion, it is better than just going through that without gaining.  Something we both do as well, and anyway.  I told her that I am doing much this summer, all things considered.  And, at times, I am paying the price.  I am glad she is still able to work, and that I am coming back to it, in fits and starts.  I talked her ear off for as long as she could stay awake.  To bed, early. 

Tomorrow?  I don't know, other than contacting the gents about what time they wish to eat dinner.  Then I need to figure out the grill, get it set up and going, and have the meat and potatoes ready for their arrival.  Slow, low, and turning often should work well enough, putting the potatoes in for the last hour and an half, perhaps.  It's good to have folks over for a meal once in a while.  I just wish I could keep the cave in better shape so as to do that even more often.  Friends, neighbors, acquaintances, and anyone who might stop by for dinners would be nice.  Perhaps, as the summer goes on, I might be able to get the place into better shape.  If I continue to improve, perhaps I can keep on top of things.

Good night.

Last night got a little... tight.

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Too tired to sleep, I thought a short one would help.  I started with one, but it went fast and off the grid in a hurry.  Even on most nights, where I decide to have a sip, even when I head in fast, I can't remember ever going in that hard or fast, save for the one time I thought Everclear would be an easy, cheap, and tolerable method.  Just vodka, last night, and not, actually, that much of it.  It must have been the speed of consumption, or perhaps medicine or general health were affecting it.  I do remember, just not clearly or well.

I posted something, but have no idea what it was.  I... often don't read such posts, just pull them.  They aren't tied to reality, and can be a bit harsh.  I mix of the insane, fantasy, and reality, in portions that can only make sense while not in one's right way of thinking.  I just hope I didn't post comments anywhere.  Those can be just as bad, or worse. 

Yeah, I know.  And it is rare.  I do have a drink once in a while, sometimes two.  And, mostly, usually, that is enough.  Sometimes, though, it's as if my body finds some need with the stuff.  Sometimes I realize it, and go with it.  Last night... I simply did not see that coming.  I slept with a bucket by the bed, just in case.  Morning was rough, but I pushed myself to wake and deal with the morning.  Or... early afternoon.  As soon as I was aware, I was awake.  Rough, but I have recovered.  At least I don't drive when drinking.  I never got into fights when drinking, either.  I never even got into arguments with past girlfriends.  When I drink, it is relatively a friendly thing.  The only thing I would change is figuring out how to turn the internet off.  Gah!

I didn't get to town, but I did find a beef roast that will do every bit as well as brisket, and then some.  I do have soda, and coffee.  Beer just isn't sounding so good, and won't for a while.  They are bringing salads and any libations they might enjoy.  So... it's all good, if not what I had planned and hoped.  I still need rest, anyway, so I am not terribly upset with the weekend.  I'll be hitting it again when I can.  I might even make a trip to town Tuesday, to manage business and do the shopping.  I will replace the roast, and add a few extra as well.  And replace the pork roast I recently cooked.  I am truly enjoying that grill.  And the right foods, cooked once or twice a week, really hold me over.  If I could just keep up on even that.

A storm seems to be coming in.  It seems cooler.  I am enjoying that, if I hope tomorrow isn't rained out.  I doubt it, and besides, rain here, this time of year, is a short thing, and usually light.  Later.