Little things only some might know.

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I am enjoying the sun.  Not bravely, openly.  The shades are as closed as I can make them.  I avoid the rooms which are flooded by the light and heat, or scurry through as I may, when there is no choice.  I can feel it anyway.  Almost a long lost love, trying to rekindle the warmth of a loving embrace.  So bright, so warm.  It is not the ice or cold that I fear.  It is what awakens when the fire within breaks loose.  As the moon and the sun, while the two can be seen plainly together, only one is dominant.  As with those two, it is flame that wins when both are in attendance.  Fire, as with real life, is a more immediate... danger.  If even this is of a lesser nature within what causes true concern.

The sun.

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Rising, easily seen.  I am awake enough to realize it.  I can't remember the last time I was awake enough to be aware of it.  All I know it, when I first realized what was happening, I knew fear.  As some fear the dark, I suppose, when I travel on certain paths, the sun is a cause of fear for me.  It could be merely that a rather fundamental change is taking place.  The world is going from muted shades and sounds, to color and heat and activity.  Perhaps, at one time, there was more than just the fear of change involved.

Of all the stories of monsters, most notably vampires and werewolves, I am surprised they haven't hit upon one of the truths of these creatures.  You cannot be made into such a thing.  Either you are, or are not, of their lines.  Many who are of such lines, however, have no more clue about it than they might have of any other genetic condition.  Until awakened, and only if awakened in certain ways, could such a thing transpire.  Which is why many monster movies... slay me.  Oh I laugh, I do.  Imagine a movie about albinos passing on their curse through a bite.  Well, such things bring a dark hope to hopeless people, I suppose.  There are always some who think grass is greener on the other side, in spite of the toxic warning signs.  I am a writer, of sorts, right?  Whether a monster of mixed lines is a whole other notion.  Stick to the notion that I am a writer.  You'll sleep better.  If a monster is real, and even if it is reformed, it means there are some, or many, others out there.  Monsters who aren't reformed.  Still, even that shouldn't worry you.  Monsters only feed on their own, and those who seek what cannot be given.  None of them are 'vegetarian', mind you.  Not even of the reformed.  *wink*

Not much is happening.  I hope to finish the last of the dishes.  Other than that?  Fire under the ice, again, most of last night.  No, I am not ill.  I am simply not well.  There is a bit of a difference.  I am not sure if the cold, or the fire underneath, is worse.  A metabolic war?  I don't know.  An odd thing.  I have it from time to time, but the war between to two seems much more profound.  The fire is very hot, but the cold is deep and unyielding.  I only notice either when they begin to battle.  No, that wasn't a story.  Actually, I had written that post before finding the video.  They do fit so well, sometimes.

I did make a bit to eat.  The leftover rice, a can of beans, and a pound of hamburger.  Toss in spice, fry, put in a tortilla, and... it was enough.  It isn't exactly wonderful, but it isn't bad.  Sour cream is a nice touch to finish it off.  Milk would be wonderful, if I had some.  Coffee doesn't go well with food, as I see things, so iced water sufficed.

I am going to attempt to stretch into the provinces of the sun.  I seem to have missed a couple of things, of late.  I actually saw them coming due, but could do nothing to... deal with them.  A call, or two, would have been enough.  I simply could not react.  Frozen, it seems, not just not the shell of my flesh.  At least I am keeping some things going, and well.  I may, actually, reduce my medicine over the weekend.  Just cutting down a bit, in the morning doses.  Perhaps that is the problem.  I should know soon enough.

Later.

Midnight.

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Thereabouts, in any case.  A wakening.  No, not the witching hour, mind you, that is later.  That notion is unsound, anyway.  It was only set to that time to hide nefarious belief systems, it never was a truth in fact or belief.  Then again, there are no truths among those who seek to be unGodly.  God IS truth.

Discussing God recently, someone believed that God is an egotist, demanding sacrifice and worship.  Most, of course, do misunderstand God.  Beyond God being a noun, a being, He is also verb, both passive and active.  Truth, for example, or the real fact of science, is a facet of God.  What God demands is that we choose what is true, what actually is, and not believe as we wish.  As to observance, He asks nothing that He Himself does not attend.  He decided, from all that is and could be, long ago, what of it is God.  So it is.

You cannot tell people who have decided, for whatever reason, that God is wrong... pretty much anything.  They choose what they will, usually so they can do, or support, what they want.  If you want to believe in homosexuality, while ignoring that it bears no fruit, then you have chosen to believe in a lie.  One among many.  Hating God is a potent illness, one there is little chance of curing.  Such medicine requires two participants, and is not easy even then.  I have helped to cure this, of a lessor sort.  Well... lessor?  Different.  Perhaps worse in ways.  Hating God means there is belief.  Relegating God to nothingness is worse, perhaps.  And yet, that is where I started, not even half my life ago.  Half a life is relative, but it adds perspective.

I heard something, in the twilight where I lived, through the dark, but sure, and true.  When I realized what it was, I pushed it away.  As the wind to a mountain.  Did it come to me, or was it always there?  Difficult to know in the dark.  When that failed, I hid, digging deeper into the notion of being my own king, in the truth of the illusion of darkness, and some other things.  Fortunately, I had limits.  Some lines I would not cross to ignore (escape) Truth.  Eventually I ran out of room to run, places to hide.  So I challenged the voice.  I wrestled, to me at the time, for the very freedom of my soul.  I was free, why would I choose chains?  The voice was more potent, more sure, and actually offered truth and freedom.  I still... struggle with that, but not because I believe otherwise.  I merely wish, at times, to believe otherwise.

God, if "she" exists, I was told, is a woman.  Ah, but I have been there too.  It is merely an affliction of men who do not wish for the responsibility of being men.  And women who cannot find a lord.  After reading the bible, NT, OT, and listening and hearing the voice, I came to understand.  Well, and remembering being over there, the second time, into death... a minor seeming detail that has become a massive understanding.  When you remember a place where no lies can exist, you realize that when you believe something that isn't true... it isn't belief, it is willful disregard of the truth.  Men were born to rule.  Rule women, rule animals, rule the world.  Running away, or trying to pass it off, only leaves us feeling free to do as we please with these things, without consequence.  It is a lie.  The only reason, for a man, to believe God is a woman, is to be free to be a cad, and worse.

It would be easy to say that men fail at what we are called to do.  And, that is true.  And we will fail until the rightful King takes his place, and teaches all things, then makes us true kings.  Even then, it will not be as it is today.  Sin will no longer be known.  Some of what passes for sin, and is truly sin, now, will pass away.  Nakedness, for example, will no more be a sin than clothing, a cover for sin, is now.  As children we are to approach Him, and as children we will be.  But now, and then, and before, are not, and never will be, the same.  They aren't even similar.  Regardless of failure, turning our backs on our duty will not spare, but spoil faster, an already dying world.  And so it goes.  But our duty is clear, as the male sons of God.  Choosing to not accept our birthright is far more of a sin than taking it and misusing it.  Further, just because a man is called to be a lord, this does not give him the right to misuse.  This, too, will be judged.  Men and women will not be judged the same way, or even for the same things.  A man will be judged for attempting to create the lie of equality, a woman will be judged for failing to be obedient.  If this whole line of argument is just a stop-gap for those who wish not to be culpable for their guilt, or even a party to it.  Even if they deny, men most certainly do rule.  Just remember, the best of rulers rule lightly, and rarely, merely creating the station through which all their trains run is often enough.  Let them figure out the details, only make sure the way exists.

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I have waken more fully.  I did some of the dishes yesterday.  A small thing, but... a change, of sorts.  Something from nothing, and nothingness.  I have reset the remainder of dishes to a fresh hot soak, since waking.  I made fish yesterday, and rice, with broccoli.  I thawed meat for today and tomorrow, at least.  Such small little things.  As scraping diamonds from the bulk and crust of the earth, it is little things sought, and found.  Precious, however, if marketed properly in any case.  It is hoped that today will see more digging.  A little bit is beyond mathematics to compare with nothing.  And so it goes.

I would love to get into town again, soon.  I do need cream, and would like to try various other pillows.

I may not be, or do, much.  But for a thing that should be dead, and worse... probably damned, I do alright.  I'm still not sure why I was called back, or reserved from death and damnation, so often and so harshly at times.  I have learned to have faith and do what it is I do, as well, and often, as I may.  It is good to not have worry, true worry.  I know what is over there, I know the options, and I will not surrender to anything less than heaven for anything of flesh.  I won't risk my soul, but I will gladly risk my life, for what is right.  My priorities, finally, are as straight as they can be.  Perhaps I can teach, help.  Perhaps I am merely here to perish in some horrible way, as a lesson that separates men of flesh from men of Spirit.  I leave these things in Father's hands.  Amen.

More, perhaps, than I first thought.

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Oh, I did dream.

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All my sleep seemed to be about the darkness of the past.  Before learning of wisdom, choosing good is a blind man's bluff.  He may well do good, but the greater the good he does, without compass, the further astray he becomes.  Home becomes where he lays his head, and there is no way back to his home of origins.  A dark series of dreams was entered.  A post was written, and pulled.  Some things aren't for you.  When waking, sometimes I cannot tell the difference.  Blood flows, with tears and doubts, right from the soul.  But that doesn't mean it ought to be shared.

It's been a rough few days.  Nothing I had hoped to do has gone forward.  Gaming has stopped.  All I do is nothing, and thinking.  Even my thinking is, really, about nothing.  I am staying on my medication.  I am figuring out food.  I am staying warm, or cool, enough, as is needed.  The girls are being fed, and their litter kept up.  But nothing else, not a drop.  There is no way, and little will.  I doubt if this last night of dreaming will do anything to help sort life out.

Empty.  No pain, no worry, no wonder, no effort.  Nothingness.  I suspected it was coming but could, and would, do nothing to alter the facts.  So it is that I sit and think, read, write, and hide some of even that.  Surprising in that I can know to care that some things should not be given.  I'll forget about it all, before long, and perhaps find my way back to some sort of function.  Not today, most likely, or tomorrow.  A week, or two, unless someone, something, a demand or command, bothers to try to shake my tree.  For now, nothingness, with a bitter taste of the past, and some hiding of that.

Later.

Rethinking.

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Perhaps one might suggest a retooling, as well.  I saw something, recently, that has me experimenting with life.  A number of recommendations, regarding function and obtaining it, was presented.  To my mind, it seemed believable.  Among them, don't start out with coffee.  Start out with water.  Yes, it was mostly inclusive to my standards, including coffee.  Though tea would work as well, I suspect.  It goes something like this.  First thing, drink water.  It kicks your body over and hydrates from sleep.  Then breakfast.  Be sure to eat.  Coffee isn't consumed until mid-"morning".  Being that my mid-morning happens to be at about 22:30, at the moment, so be it.  There are a number of other recommendations.  I actually plan to attempt to follow the advice, give or take, for a while, and see if it helps.

Now, mind you, being mostly dead means something.  I am different.  If this set of ideas culminates in success, my version of success will not be the same level of success as for others, certainly not always.  This will no more make me function like a normal than it would make the lame walk.  There are limits.  And yet, within my capacity, this sort of thing might help me to optimize what is possible for me.  That is the trick.  Of course, there is some hope that, with baby steps, medicine, effort, and optimization, that perhaps I can go beyond even the impossible I have already stretched beyond. 

So, just now, a cup of coffee.  Oh, and their ideas of volume is a bit off.  An eight to twelve ounce glass of water might be, give or take, the sweetspot for a mundane, being twice the size, and more, of standard fleshlings, I need to... calibrate suggestions to my size.  As well, this might require a bit of fine tuning.  I may need, and want, more coffee.  I may, though, in time, find that a bit less coffee is better for function, or even that is should be variable.  Even the best, most accurate and precise, advice, must be tweaked.  And that for normals.  For others, the whole thing has to be reconsidered and weighed.  I can, will, and have already begun the process. 

Sleep was a bit better last night, with the new pillows.  I adjusted those just a bit.  While the body is ever so slightly cranky this "morning", it isn't outright stiff or sore.  And yet, I had to sleep a bit softly, adjusting on the fly.  I bet you didn't know creatures such as myself could do that.  Oh yes, I can do very odd, almost unnatural for my nature, things.  I still sometimes wonder if God didn't put a little more human into me than what I had, as a grace from our personal... covenant.  Giving up the command, desire of, or such, of the darker nature, I thought, was simply part of the terms of surrender.  He called, I contested, betting on my world view, and lost.  In losing, I surrendered.  I did not know there was any... returns other than accepting truth.  I now believe He gave much more than what I lost.  And yet He did not take all that I was, or restrict it, only restricting... some forms of it's applications, and taking the helm as for direction.  Who could have known!  Then again, why call a beast only to try to turn it into a poodle, or even a sheep?  :)

Anyway... Perhaps a trip to town soon.  I need milk, and more cream, anyway.  A few more pillows would not be terrible.  I can always use the extra pillows for various things.  Odd, for as much as I sleep, I never nap on the couches or chairs.  I am either abed, asleep, or awake.  Naps, themselves, rare as they are, are a thing for bed.  Then again, perhaps it is simply size.  I have found no couch that can embrace my form properly.  No chair, not even great chairs, fit my frame well enough that some part of my does not have to be... tended.  I can do that, in sleep, but it changes the sort of rest I may obtain.  I call it war sleep, a rest that will allow immediate action if necessary.  It's not a good sleep.

Yeah, well, whatever.  Midmorning, but I am still not quite awake.  Coffee might help.  I will carry on with my list, consider a trip to town, but for now, just attempt to wake.  Later.

Notes and tunes, for a friend.

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I can't but help to consider what my friend is doing.  Oh, I suspect it is much less, and much more, than what I imagine.  And, yet, it's my gig so I can play it out as I wish.  Oh, what do I mean?  Try this on.  For my part, decades ago, and perhaps more back when I still... had clan connections, I suspect I had my own versions of this.  He, it seems, is playing a slightly lighter, but similar, game currently.  Yes, it's on my mind.  My imagination is having fun with it.

Ouch.

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New pillows are harsh.  I will have to sort through them, to see if there isn't a set of them that works.  With new pillows, three is out.  Two is pushing it.  I bought all firm.  Perhaps that was an error.  It isn't a terrible pain, just a good solid one, or set of them.  Neck, head, shoulders, all stiff and out of sync.  Then again, different pillows always take some time to simply become familiar...  Hmm, no, this is definitely not just familiarity.  The pillows, even though they seemed good, were too thick.  I'll figure it out.  I might just have to wear the pillows down.

I was feeling a bit disappointed as I began getting ready for bed.  Not much seems to be happening.   Then I thought about it.  I did have a visitor, and a pretty good night discussing this and that.  I have fixed and put the dryer back into operation.  I have the dishes, over various days, washed twice as I prefer, and soaking.  They just need a final hot soak and then they can be dried and put up.  Between the neighbors and myself, I have been pretty good about eating at least daily.  I made it to the store.  I have been keeping the girls fed and their litter box in superior standing.  I got recycling handled, and trash mostly tended and have been keeping that up.  I set up my medicines and started taking those regularly again.  All of that in the last three days, give or take.  Really, that isn't bad.

Sure, I haven't gotten the sink figured out, or ready for work, yet.  I haven't started sorting out the en suite.  I haven't cracked down on my messy home, as much as I would like.  I have lost a few things.  There are business and personal correspondence I need to attend.  Bleh.  Glass half full?  No, it is overflowing, for my state at the moment.  But that isn't enough.  Is there a difference between being far underwater and being only a few inches below the surface?  Yes, and, frustratingly, no.  More, I tend to piss off the world.  I do it well, I do it without thought even when it is highly considered, and I can't change what my computer evaluates the numbers to be.  If my machine says 10, then 9 1/2, 8, 15, and any number, no matter how close or far, that is not 10.0000000000, is wrong, as I see things.  No amount of coaxing or rhetoric will cause me to change that.  Only added inputs that rightly call for a real recalculation can do that.  Few, if any, can provide that.  I have to see it, and believe it, for me to use any other data.  Even then, the number, once found, is usually exactly that.  Hated for that, true.  But so is God.  Everyone wants a free lunch, but it simply does not exist.  And I will not bend a knee on that, not even for myself.  There is want, there is hope, and there is what there is.  Quite often they will not ever see each other.

My fantasies are just that.  Do not worry about me confusing fact with fiction.  There is some smoke, and some fire, in there.  Interpret as you see fit.  Some of it more so, some of it less so.  I write in such a way so that what is commonly unbelievable but true can be kept as it is, and what is believable but untrue can cover as well.  But none of it is the affair of any other.  Simply, some things ought to be told.  Holding heavy things alone is too much for a mind.  Don't worry about my sanity, worry about yours.  You are required to believe the secular because of your job, your social connections, your incapacity to honestly see beyond the grave or even to it, and your fear.  Excluding God, and what He has written and done, in truth, from your daily, makes you much more suspect than it makes me.  Most of you, truly, are secular humanist, even if in a church.  The next time you suggest something divine, and have that poo-pooed, think about it.  Did you back down, quit the chase, let it go, or even reconsider?  Probably.  Careful.  You have just allowed yourself to be altered, and not necessarily in the right direction, especially if the truth you presented was sure.

Today?  Don't know.  Dishes, it is hoped, will be done.  Another shower, maybe.  A trip to town if I can, though I have my doubts.  Milk is a wonderful thing, and missed when I am out.  I purchased just enough cream to get me through the week, being as expensive where I shopped as it is.  I have time, but little.  I am hoping to at least clean and clear under the sink for another attempt at getting the faucet fixed and installed.  Oh, and while I did dry the last bit of laundry, I never did fold or hang it all.  I don't know.  I will do some, maybe all, perhaps none, of that.  Oh, some painkillers to start my day though, and I just took "morning" medicine.

Messy, confusing, tired.

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I got the pillows set up.  I thought to check on my medicine.  At first it looked like I had missed a dose.  It is Tuesday.  But, wait, it's actually my Monday "night".  So, I didn't miss it.  I went ahead and took it, and will take the last of the medicine shortly.  When your day starts in one day, and ends in another, while you are considering this and that, and doing that and this, it tends to get confusing.  With a minor sense of humor, you can take that confusion and put some order to it.  Perhaps chuckling while you do so.  Well, I can, when I remember, after I have figured enough of it out.

It is almost noon.  I have stayed up just about as long as I am able.  Bedtime is overdue.  Medicine should help me sleep, unless it messes with things.  One of the things the visitor suggested, was cutting my medicines, rather than stopping them.  I explained that when I stopped them, it wasn't a thing to do with will.  Hitting the wall, as I call it, is not something I always, or even usually, see.  A few days to a week, even more, after it happens, I realize what "just" happened.  Sometimes I am beginning to restart normal operations, on a hit and miss basis.  But that doesn't mean I know what I am doing even while my system attempts to reboot and kick over.  One of the ideas developed, was putting in a medicinal firewall.  Say, cutting medicine a few days a week, or variously, throughout the week.  While the medicine helps, it becomes toxic, or at least becomes too potent. 

I know this idea, if employed, will not do more than, maybe, reduce the failures.  The problem is that medicine is only one of the causes of the failures.  Health itself, a form of "human nature" is another problem, and there might be a few other issues.  I can't see these things, always.  Some of them are only theory, never seen, not understood well, and without fully being able to eliminate the known possibilities because they aren't completely understood.  What, about, blanking out would lead one to conclude that someone who does so could know why such a thing happens? 

Still... a bit of humor about it is fine, by me.  I've already outlived any possible explanation itself, and probably will continue to do so well beyond the lifespan of at least a few of my doctors.  Maybe I should advise, and charge, them?  *grins*  Meh, after dealing with them long enough, I know they would make worse patience than I am. 

Good... night.  Have a great day.

There we go.

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Out.  Into the night, as that is what was to be done.  Choices are slim, for the moment.  Night is preferred as well, for now.

A meal was on my mind, and had.  But that was not all.  Cream.  Though I had to pay more, it is what was available when I am able.  A few other things were on my mind.  I had meant to purchase a few more of my coffee "cups".  I used to have four, but two have broken.  Glass, as I have mentioned, is just how I do it.  Glass, of course, is fragile.  I purchased a dozen more "cups".  Eight, maybe ten, will be put away for another time.  I also purchased some glasses.  Smaller than my cups, but larger than most glasses, 20 ounces perhaps.  Something for when I feel like drinking lightly.  Gah!  I forgot to buy milk.  Ah well.

As well, I picked up replacement cat food, and litter.  I have been keeping up on the cat litter quite well.  As such, I can just do a minor shift.  Some of it has to go.  They use the more deeply filled pan for urination, mostly.  The other two pans are mostly for bowel movements, and thus stay relatively clean, if kept up.  Simply emptying some or all of the the fuller pan, then shifting the other litter over, actually is very tenable.  So long as the deodorant still rises readily, the stuff is still good.  Trust me.  Plus, I can tell by how the girls react.  They really love me when I do it right.  If they don't, after a change, I go ahead and do more.  I'm a bastard, and maybe a cheap one, but I like some loving, too.

Finally, while there, I broke down and decided to replace my pillows.  They aren't past due, they are way past due.  New pillow encasements, for under pillow cases, as well.  I had lost track of using those and things go downhill fast, or faster.  Pillows have a rather short life, more so for creatures like me.  Even more so when I don't used zippered cases as well as regular cases.  I had simply been... reticent.  Pillows, the ones I used to buy, were quite expensive.  I doubted if lower end pillows would work.  I finally just checked on them.  I was actually a bit surprised.  I bought several different types, but checked, compared, pinched, and pushed, to check.  I still don't know if they will work, but...  Well... Eventually you simply have to get to something.  It was, literally and figuratively, keeping me up at nights.  Well, I'll find out shortly if I did well.  I am so fussy with pillows.  No one has to be perfect, but they do have to work as sets, two, sometimes three, if not rested upon as normals might. 

Tuesday is it?  Hmm...  I may try to push through the day.  A bit anyway.  Sunlight?  Bleh.  I'll keep the shades closed, for now.  Until I am up to that golden sky orb.  I, mostly, have learned to like the thing.  But not when I have to push into the time of it's dominance.  Then I am quite weak to it.  As I will be today.  I may try to make another trip to town tonight, but later, when it is... refreshingly dark.  Milk, maybe more cream, and a few other things.  Hungry, boys and girls, and no longer feeding on anything but livestock of a mundane sort.  So... to the store. 

Later.

A visitor.

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For a moment, it was suggested.  And, welcomed, so long as the mess of self or cave was not offensive, is all I required.  My door, as I have said, is always open.  Enter or leave, do no harm, the sum cost of admission and exit toll.  So it was.  The visitor entered.  A few notions on his mind.  An ear, had I, and words from time to time.  So a song was sung with neither rhythm, music, cant, or beat, merely the wagging of thoughts and beliefs through words of various timbers.  Strike and parry, glancing blow and feign, together and alone, in agreement and not.  On the night went.

Certainly, mostly.

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I did get the dryer sorted out, as well as I could.  The outside vent downspout does not come off.  It looks as if it  was rolled, together with the pipe.  Oh, I did... bend it all just a wee.  But it fit back in place, for now.  And I backed the dryer into place, and... think... it is attached.  I just thought how I could check, but won't be doing that tonight.  And, since I was at it, as I suggested, I put the clothes that I had been trying to dry back through for a wash, and am half done with those.  More if you count by parts.  The last half of a load is drying, the other part is folded or waiting to be hung, which will be done shortly.  As well, I did wash the dishes and set them to another hot sudsy soak.  I may yet wash those the final time, then set them to a hot rinse.

Supper was made, too.  I had fish thawed, and thought quinoa would work with it tonight.  My steamer basket was lost, somewhere in the wash, so I simply fried the fish in my recently cleaned cast iron skillet.  That worked well.  I've been working on the skillet, the last few days, getting it larded, warmed, and scraping anything that seems stuck on.  Some people swear by the fond-foundered cast iron.  Myself, I prefer it rather clean and clear.  It depends on if you want that sort of flavor, if you work with gravies and sauces, or like me, if you prefer non-stick properties without excessive oils or fats.  Use more than style based.

Medicine is going in my face, regularly, and set up well enough that I can go a month.  I like to refill the medsets as soon as they run dry.  If I can't, two usually sees me to reason before I run out.  This last time was an exception.  I would by a third, but the truth is, sometimes I will just run dry... on anything, sometimes everything.  With stores in stock, I can usually survive without a trip to the store for a fairly reasonable amount of time.  It isn't the best, but it is better than nothing.  I have done both and much prefer the former.  It isn't just foods I try to keep in stock.  Toilet paper to laundry and regular soap, to... you name it.  Anything I use regularly.  A few months supply for the mundane, a little longer for the vital.  As I have mentioned, I am, mostly, already in survival mode.  It's not perfect, yet, and probably never will be.  But, one item stocked, at a time, up to some reasonable point, and the easier it gets for me in the shorter term, probably in the longer term.  I suppose this may bee some of my cosmic medicine?  Dunno, but it's what I have, so I will take it.

Now, to see if I have enough petrol to push through the dishes and the last of the laundry.  It's not all I have been doing, either.  Little bits and pieces of other things are happening.  I mostly, or completely, cleared the bathroom of tools, putting what I will need for the sink out there, for example.  I didn't get to the sink prep today, but that is coming.  Hopefully tomorrow I can clean and clear the area, and begin sorting pieces and parts and try, once again, to get that arranged.  A fully functioning main kitchen faucet, thus sink, would be nice to have again.  Yes, I can do without.  It just isn't preferred.

Good night.