Mostly pretty good.

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The laundry intended is done, or finishing.  The two first loads are dry, and sorted in a basket to go up.  I'll wait for the last load to dry.  Which won't be done, with surety, until tomorrow.  It is running, now.  I'll spin it in the morning.  Then get things going where they go.

I set up another wash, but... in my sleepiness, added the soap.  I won't leave soap in the machine cup overnight, so I am running it.  I just... really need to remember to get going on that first thing.  One more load of laundry after after, for tomorrow.  Synthetics.  By the way, I did get the stink out of the synthetics.  Washing with vinegar... in the wash, in the bleach dispenser, in the water softener dispenser, with extra rinse, and on warm water.  Good.

Though I have enough actual wool caps, of various sorts.  So I don't need the synthetics, but... I like having a cap when I sleep, especially on colder nights.  I sleep so much warmer.  As well, it's nice to have a few for day runs, as it gets colder.  Learning as I go.  Synthetics are good... just to add variety.  And they are as warm as wool, mostly.

So very tired.

My friend brought the cream.  He was telling me that... he is, officially, they really, empty nesters.  Their last little bird has flown.  It has to be terrifying, in some ways.  At least he and the wife are... more than just co-parents, or such.  So it's not like finding oneself alone, with a stranger.  He seemed fine with it.  And, will be.  Right until it hits.

Death comes in stages.  Strangely, the first death, for a man, is finding a woman.  He dies to other women.  Or... that is... the idea.  Each kid is a nail in that coffin.  Then, when they are gone.  A big piece of him goes.  Then, somewhere in there, or soon, fertility is gone.  For the wife first, perhaps.  And, changes, with those, as they close those possibilities, biologically.

Bit by bit, we die.  It's not a fast process.  And, sometimes, like turning 30 for me, a realization occurs.  I think he will hit a wall, some time soon.  Seems good, I am sure, to have one's life back.  But... you don't get your life back.  It... went into the children.  You'll get dividends, with grandchildren, and greats.  But your life has been given away, gifted away.  You don't get it back.

Still, it... is a good thing.  It's... a good day to die, just a little.  In the right ways, at the right times.  Amen?  I'll say a little prayer that it works out more smoothly, less bitter than it can.  And that they will enjoy family yet, and for their continued lifetime.  Bittersweet, as they like to say.  Life.  Joy, but pain.  All good.  Or... maybe I see more than is there.  I am blind, even sometimes when I see.

Good evening, day, night.  I'll make it to 19:00 again.  But it's bedtime.