A rather good sleep.

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It was a bit cool, to be honest.  It was 68 near me, when I woke.  And when I went to sleep, 66 in the main of upstairs.  Trying to keep my feet warm enough, and cool enough, was an ongoing effort.  It has been 73 up there, at it's coolest, for the last month.  It'll take a bit to get used to the cooling conditions.

Dreams.  One, very long, very simple, as if I had gone on to work, after the Navy, and over twenty years in an office... the life and times of a corporate climber, I guess.  One of the most dull and uninspired dreams I have ever had, that I remember.  If that would have been my future, I think my time was better spent in pain, dying.

Then, one of Sam.  She was alive, again.  She ran up the stairs, I thought to find a place to sleep.  But, no.  The window with the ac, in the dream, was double pained.  Or... somehow different?  For some reason, Sam wanted out.  Her will knocked the ac out of the window.  But, the top back framed glass part came down.  So, she was trying to crawl up through between the windows, but couldn't fit.  I gently extricated her, and was going to take her outside... since she wanted out to badly.  Such a sad dream.  I don't know why.

When waking, or right before in dream still?  I remembered my father.  He was in his early sixties when he died.  But there were strange things about him.  His hands had liver spots?  Or something.  His hands were always a bit swollen, and feet.  He had a bad heart too.  But, he had a stressful job, as the minister to 2500 people, there.  We were lucky if a quarter ever came to church at once, but anyone who died, got married, sometimes before a divorce, or such, were in to see him.  Every child born, through the various steps of the church with youth, women, and men, he had a heavy load.  Plus he had five birth children and me, definitely the most complex of his children.

I am nearing his age, and don't look it.  No spots, no swelling of hands, if I do have to work on my feet.  He thought his swelling was gout, I am betting now it was fluid backup.  Not sure doctors knew any better back then, or cared?  Medicals don't like religious, even if they are adherents?  I think that is the truth.  Professional jealousy?  Or simply the secular disavowal of the faithful from their indoctrination?  Something.  Or, just a simple town doc who really didn't know, couldn't keep up on new stuff, didn't want to.  It wasn't gout.  Or his hands wouldn't have had it too.  Though, I thought he was on waterpills?  Not sure.  He took a small handful of pills, day, noon, and night.  He had trouble keeping up on them too.

Just... the spots, on his hands?  Though, he drove a lot.  Was out quite often.  It was a different world.  I suspect stress was more of his concern than health.  But the two were deadly.  I don't have that sort of stress, mostly.  But, I am running out of pills, too.  So... Meh.

I left a few windows open downstairs.  It was 75 when I went to bed, at around 15:00?  16:00, I think, when I finally crawled in to bed.  It didn't look to be warming, so some fresh air seemed good.  It was 71/73 downstairs when I got up, 58 outside.  It's not all that cool, but for August?  Yes.  I am think, through August, it is usually in the 60s to 70s at night.  Could be wrong, but... I think so.

I liked my dad.  Most didn't really consider me his son.  The family, pretty much, didn't.  I was more like a pet.  One they didn't appreciate.  A pet project of their father, for a guilty conscience?  Why they couldn't, wouldn't, just accept?  I left, not because he was bad, or it was difficult, but something was going wrong.  I was failing.  Was my heart already a problem?  Or was I not dealing with stress, and success, well?  I can't say for sure.  But, I will always consider him my father, dad.  He gave me what my mother couldn't... for as long as it was possible.

On to my new day.  I still have the list.  May try to dig in, if possible.  Or... not.  If not.  So it goes.  Oh... a vid for you.  Not exactly my style, but not completely off my track.  We could, as philosophers go, have at least been more than passing acquaintances.  I was asked, what I need, by a multi-millionaire.  Sure, not great king and conqueror, but.  I, too, just asked that he... tend his family and fortunes wisely, and tend his soul.  Or... something.  I... need nothing.  Now, if someone wishes to pay off my house, so I could dig into upkeep more deeply?  Sure.  :p

Yes, I have a home.  But, it... isn't possible to live here in a jar.  And, where one could live as such, there are so many, many of which are mad or on drugs or both, that... it wouldn't be a place to live.  And, I do believe in modesty.  Not just for one's self, but too so others need not be reminded of the darker side of our physical nature.  Rude, I would have to task him on that one.  Probably others.  But, the ideas are sound, assuming one has no family.  With a family, it's a different program.

Just... understand.  If you search for Truth, I promise you will find it.  And, if you find it?  You have two choices.  The first, is to remain worldly.  To reject Truth, and strike your own false pose in this false dark world of lies.  The next is to accept Truth, submit to it.  Your world will change, no matter your condition or state in life.  It will break you.  Being worldly is so very easy, living with Truth as your master is hard, harsh, difficult, impossible some say.  But it isn't perfection demanded, only acceptance and grave effort.