Wow was I bat guano tired. Still, I did not get to sleep until 04:00 I believe. I awoke right away, with the first beep (of the second alarm) 08:30 anyway. First thing, I begin thinking about last night. I was a little touchy feely, dang. Yeah, I suppose there will be changes. And, I guess I really do feel mostly alone here, but that is usually fine. I am pretty sure I do not want to fit in. I would rather be plucked out of the line-up by the communists as a hard smart worker than to live like the rest. The rest really do just as little as possible while expecting a star for their work in spite of having praiseworthiness only for being mediocre, just like everybody else. Yeah, I’ll pass on those mashed potatoes I do believe. Although, my lady friend fits there. I guess the sad part is that she does not have to, mostly. Then again, as she ages, she diminishes. And, that is sad to watch in anyone. Ok, so I have a bit of grip on all that.
In my fogs, I probably never do get a grip on those things. I am perpetually too tired to work them out, in too much pain to touch salve or massage any specific physical or mental sores, so I languished, depending on a short memory to get me through.
As for the question, should I write; I do not care. It is what I do, and for the reason I stated. I will write, play, sing, or whatever. If I change something, I will just privatize the activities should I find the world rejects my offerings, so long as there is a good reason for the rejection. If it does not like my conclusions, tough unless it can show that they are groundless. Good luck with that. Singing, well, ok, yeah, I will keep that under my hat and out of your delicate rap listening ears. Oh, fine, I admit it. I sing like one would expect an ogre to sing. But I will climb those trees and rocks, I will fish and hunt, I will go off-roading. If that is too much for the delicate planet, I guess we will die. But, before you ponder the sty in my eye, check the log in yours, Al Gore. Shut it.
Gee, a little sleep and a decent wake up call really helps get the thing reorganized. I like this. A little more classical music this morning, though I should put some other things in. I have played most out. However, with Vivaldi, I can not get enough. Or, at least, have not. I left it to play for my leisure while I slept, and it was good. I do believe it helped me to rise this morning, soundly. I love it when words come together in a crux, answering several and varied questions or adding relevant matter. When three or more answer and matter questions and thoughts can be summed and qualified by a single word of various meanings, I know joy. In spite of that, I despise the study of English. Too much for too little, and usually a study of topics for which I have no interest. Either one can use the tool or not, specific studies at this time, for me, are wasted. Yes, that is one of my little joys. And, I will repeat it. It is the little joys, folks. Live for them, they may be all we get for very long spells. Mine do sustain me if needs be, in any case.
Hmmm, I will check on the Obfusticattor in a bit, before noon anyway. She may be better, need food, want a drive to her doctor’s door, or wish to play a game or three. I will probably get to mass today. I might go fishing, though I will save most of my energy for the wall tonight. Oh, yesterday while I was dinking, and reading k’s postings, I decided to take some pictures of Rocky. My camera is only 5gigs, but it does have a flower zoom of sorts. Now, I am a complete camera novice, and I am not sure how to post pictures, so bear with me. I will be working on this today, along with several old tasks that I never could remember long enough to solve before. I am looking for a particular type of solution to my picture posting process, so that may take a bit. The day looms large before me, and it is good.
I wonder and sometimes worry. Herein lie those ponderings with perhaps some editing but still in their truer forms. Whisper as well, though in truth, whispers are just that, rustlings in the wind and nothing more. It is kind to not be alone with one's own whispers.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
A time for everything, but a place for everyone?
I think I will try to sleep the night. Nothing seems to be working the other way and I am quite tired. Perhaps I will be able to rise with my alarm tomorrow. This is frustrating, but not debilitating. If you saw Galaxy Quest and remember the scene where they are taking the ship out of the space port, you will remember how the ship began going off course, and the captain among others, began leaning their heads as if to fix it, yet nothing worked, and with all the noise and concern, no one and nothing was hurt. That is how it seems here. Just off kilter a bit, sleep wise. The other aspects of life are fine.
The evening went well with my lady friend. She was actually quite good company. We played two games, and shared some coffee. As I was getting coffee while she prepared the board for play, I noticed her dishes were few and her kitchen kempt, so I left things as such. As I was initially preparing to leave she prepared for sleep. She always sleeps in pajamas, and was in them in any case, because of her condition. She requested the thermometer, so I put off leaving. Her near 100 F temperature remains. She was comfortable enough to sleep, and now tired from the games. So, after finishing her reading, I collected the device, sterilized it, and returned the various items to their proper places. I assured she needed no supplies from the grocery or drug store. Having done that, I was packing to leave when she requested a few minor adjustments to her quarters; a few windows needed to have their curtains parted; one window was closed, but needed a certain specific item to be kept open or to be left alone as she commanded; the item was found in spite of her turning the lights off in her nest and it being past sundown, and so this too was done; the glass of the screen section needed opened of course it’s screen replaced to a secure position, and then it’s curtain adjusted to allow air flow. She then suggested I might be asked to take her to the doctor’s office on the morrow should her condition persist. I assured her that she would have priority and that I would leave my cel on and plugged in near my bed, should I not rise I always seem to wake to a call. I believe I left her in good stead, and a bit happier, if not healthier.
As I returned, I saw that the neighbors had not returned to the hospital. A downstairs light came on as I was returning to the cave. I try not to look in on people, day or night though so I can say nothing more. I prefer to think of windows as tools for the occupants only. Doors alone may allow the use of an abode’s windows, should that door be opened and entrance permitted for that particular individual. When I entered my house, my pants felt a bit odd, so I investigated further. Wow, I had been thinking I was dropping from a 42 to a 40 waist, but I am thinking that this is more like a 38. I cannot afford this now. Well, maybe a few belts. It would be stopgap, unless I drop even more. I am nervous and excited about this development.
While responding to a few commenters tonight, I went through some kind of emotional storm, perhaps two. I am still not quite over it. Shaken and stirred, I think, perhaps on the rocks as well. Sometimes a thought or a comment just cuts right to the quick of my soul. Perhaps a weakness to one lead to a weakness for the other. Perhaps I am just vulnerable to both of these topics. I just cannot say for certain.
The first was a happenstance reaction to a response I was making to a fun comment. I do realize, more now, that even in the depths of my fogs and sleep, I lead a rich life and ponder many things. I have touched on topics before, and remember them not at all until something brings the memory, maybe the emotions that belonged with it, and perhaps whatever else from that past time forth with it. This happened, and I see some of the depths of my despair with this one. That hurt, a lot. It still does. I am not sure how to manage these things now that I cannot forget. Nor am I sure how to manage this particular item itself. I think I am alone, in many ways. I have always been alone. No matter who is with me, no matter how close in proximity, no matter how strong the love. I cannot even begin to talk to most people. I say words but there is seemingly no understanding. It would be akin to you describing a rose in immaculate detail and having the other person only receive the idea of ‘red’. I cannot really say if this is my failure, theirs, or just the way it is. Tears have and will come and go on this one. At least when I was more crippled, I fit in better, my tongue, memory, and facilities were nicely clipped, like the bird in the cage. And, I could forget.
The second hit came with a mere question, albeit a powerful one to me. Why do you write? The echo chamber just exploded in a cacophony of “why, why, write, why do you, why write”, on and on it went. Was it a question or an answer, a doubt, a fear, a disparagement. Whatever it was, was it his or mine? Whoever was to posses whatever it was, what is the reason behind it. Perhaps reeling from the first blow, I was unable to process this properly. Perhaps depth or dimension is beyond my capacity to process. Perhaps I should not write.
The answer is; because I do, that is all. And, I am happy with that answer. I just do not know. Should I write?
Then, perhaps, I am just weary. Sleep calls and I follow it’s call. There is tomorrow.
The evening went well with my lady friend. She was actually quite good company. We played two games, and shared some coffee. As I was getting coffee while she prepared the board for play, I noticed her dishes were few and her kitchen kempt, so I left things as such. As I was initially preparing to leave she prepared for sleep. She always sleeps in pajamas, and was in them in any case, because of her condition. She requested the thermometer, so I put off leaving. Her near 100 F temperature remains. She was comfortable enough to sleep, and now tired from the games. So, after finishing her reading, I collected the device, sterilized it, and returned the various items to their proper places. I assured she needed no supplies from the grocery or drug store. Having done that, I was packing to leave when she requested a few minor adjustments to her quarters; a few windows needed to have their curtains parted; one window was closed, but needed a certain specific item to be kept open or to be left alone as she commanded; the item was found in spite of her turning the lights off in her nest and it being past sundown, and so this too was done; the glass of the screen section needed opened of course it’s screen replaced to a secure position, and then it’s curtain adjusted to allow air flow. She then suggested I might be asked to take her to the doctor’s office on the morrow should her condition persist. I assured her that she would have priority and that I would leave my cel on and plugged in near my bed, should I not rise I always seem to wake to a call. I believe I left her in good stead, and a bit happier, if not healthier.
As I returned, I saw that the neighbors had not returned to the hospital. A downstairs light came on as I was returning to the cave. I try not to look in on people, day or night though so I can say nothing more. I prefer to think of windows as tools for the occupants only. Doors alone may allow the use of an abode’s windows, should that door be opened and entrance permitted for that particular individual. When I entered my house, my pants felt a bit odd, so I investigated further. Wow, I had been thinking I was dropping from a 42 to a 40 waist, but I am thinking that this is more like a 38. I cannot afford this now. Well, maybe a few belts. It would be stopgap, unless I drop even more. I am nervous and excited about this development.
While responding to a few commenters tonight, I went through some kind of emotional storm, perhaps two. I am still not quite over it. Shaken and stirred, I think, perhaps on the rocks as well. Sometimes a thought or a comment just cuts right to the quick of my soul. Perhaps a weakness to one lead to a weakness for the other. Perhaps I am just vulnerable to both of these topics. I just cannot say for certain.
The first was a happenstance reaction to a response I was making to a fun comment. I do realize, more now, that even in the depths of my fogs and sleep, I lead a rich life and ponder many things. I have touched on topics before, and remember them not at all until something brings the memory, maybe the emotions that belonged with it, and perhaps whatever else from that past time forth with it. This happened, and I see some of the depths of my despair with this one. That hurt, a lot. It still does. I am not sure how to manage these things now that I cannot forget. Nor am I sure how to manage this particular item itself. I think I am alone, in many ways. I have always been alone. No matter who is with me, no matter how close in proximity, no matter how strong the love. I cannot even begin to talk to most people. I say words but there is seemingly no understanding. It would be akin to you describing a rose in immaculate detail and having the other person only receive the idea of ‘red’. I cannot really say if this is my failure, theirs, or just the way it is. Tears have and will come and go on this one. At least when I was more crippled, I fit in better, my tongue, memory, and facilities were nicely clipped, like the bird in the cage. And, I could forget.
The second hit came with a mere question, albeit a powerful one to me. Why do you write? The echo chamber just exploded in a cacophony of “why, why, write, why do you, why write”, on and on it went. Was it a question or an answer, a doubt, a fear, a disparagement. Whatever it was, was it his or mine? Whoever was to posses whatever it was, what is the reason behind it. Perhaps reeling from the first blow, I was unable to process this properly. Perhaps depth or dimension is beyond my capacity to process. Perhaps I should not write.
The answer is; because I do, that is all. And, I am happy with that answer. I just do not know. Should I write?
Then, perhaps, I am just weary. Sleep calls and I follow it’s call. There is tomorrow.
Monday, June 25, 2007
A busy day for having seemingly done nothing.
I will not be fishing this evening. But I am quite happy in spite of it. My neighbor’s wife is about ready to deliver her baby. They went to the hospital for the first half of the day but are returning home. Yet, they are not finished. They seem to hope to return to the hospital for the delivery this evening. Can you believe, the husband apologized to me for not contacting me sooner? No, no, no, I told him. First, the hospital interferes with cel phone use, second, that he remembered to call in that situation at all was excellent in my book as he was busy with the hospital, tending his other children, reordering his work, school, and extended family business and life, and third I know he must take care of what is in front of him, his wife and soon to be born son, those last being the most important. Though tending his sanity and nerves would not hurt. He sounded pretty up-beat and relaxed though, which probably saves all a good deal of hassle. I am not sure how the misses feels right about now. And, it would be my guess that not knowing might be best for the time being. Perhaps someday I will know a bit more, albeit in my own way. They have been here before, they are experienced, but somehow I doubt if it always feels like that. I am sure there are always new little or big things.
After that call, I decided to try and talk to my Mom. I succeeded. She was well, driving a lady friend and one of that friend’s son’s employees back from a distant job site, and enjoying the day. She too had tried to contact me through last week, though had also left no messages. I left a message yesterday, which she received. She, having returned late, just went on to bed with the plan of calling me this evening. She will do so anyway, since she was driving, our conversation was short. I do feel better. She sounded well, and in cheer. All good, all well, soothed.
I have been looking for my good thesaurus for days now, and my little brown book (or some book named or nicknamed similarly if not exact) detailing English usage. I found my little thesaurus and my research writing little book, but neither of the books which started the search. Since I am writing, I would like to improve my skills, vocabulary, and style. Well, I will search more later.
Tiger Lily called and asked about a thermometer. All I have, currently, is a Hy-Vee special. It is decidedly slow, not altogether accurate, and I do not recommend them. She decided against that. She then asked if a rectal mercury thermometer works orally. I think it does, and said as much. However, I suggested the flavor might be a little different. She has no sense of my humor, and grumbled it off. She seems to think that she does not have strep throat or a cold, but more like pneumonia. As for me, I think she is tired and is dealing with exposure. But it deserves some care. She is bored, and is not going to work tonight in her condition, so she wondered if I would come over and play games since I am not fishing as had been planned. Certainly, she is good company, and a mean Scrabble player, so it should be fun, though I just say, yes.
My landlord stopped by and knocked. The other side of my duplex has been vacant for a month or two now (I think). He has a new renter though. A modern couple, man and girlfriend. She has a little girl, though I do not know if the child is his. He is a student, accounting from my understanding. She works at a respectable business. And , they have marriage in their future, as it was relayed to me. Hmm, I think that should be fine. I have not met them yet, so this is untested. I am hoping they are rather more family oriented than loosely associated, as if so, they will fit into this little, if shrinking, part of the neighborhood. Still, I hold my breath a bit. I will be looking for them, perhaps the 6th of next month. And, should I see or hear them arrive, I will at least offer them a hand with the big things, boxes, and such should they desire any assistance. I might have to have something prepared for them to eat as well. Hmm, I will think on a menu in the meantime. Oh, BREAD! It would be nice to have bread. I will have to practice. Perhaps several of my neighbors will be getting some loaves if I can crack k's code, well, implement it any way as it is pretty straight forward. What a gal!
Bah, enough. I am off!
After that call, I decided to try and talk to my Mom. I succeeded. She was well, driving a lady friend and one of that friend’s son’s employees back from a distant job site, and enjoying the day. She too had tried to contact me through last week, though had also left no messages. I left a message yesterday, which she received. She, having returned late, just went on to bed with the plan of calling me this evening. She will do so anyway, since she was driving, our conversation was short. I do feel better. She sounded well, and in cheer. All good, all well, soothed.
I have been looking for my good thesaurus for days now, and my little brown book (or some book named or nicknamed similarly if not exact) detailing English usage. I found my little thesaurus and my research writing little book, but neither of the books which started the search. Since I am writing, I would like to improve my skills, vocabulary, and style. Well, I will search more later.
Tiger Lily called and asked about a thermometer. All I have, currently, is a Hy-Vee special. It is decidedly slow, not altogether accurate, and I do not recommend them. She decided against that. She then asked if a rectal mercury thermometer works orally. I think it does, and said as much. However, I suggested the flavor might be a little different. She has no sense of my humor, and grumbled it off. She seems to think that she does not have strep throat or a cold, but more like pneumonia. As for me, I think she is tired and is dealing with exposure. But it deserves some care. She is bored, and is not going to work tonight in her condition, so she wondered if I would come over and play games since I am not fishing as had been planned. Certainly, she is good company, and a mean Scrabble player, so it should be fun, though I just say, yes.
My landlord stopped by and knocked. The other side of my duplex has been vacant for a month or two now (I think). He has a new renter though. A modern couple, man and girlfriend. She has a little girl, though I do not know if the child is his. He is a student, accounting from my understanding. She works at a respectable business. And , they have marriage in their future, as it was relayed to me. Hmm, I think that should be fine. I have not met them yet, so this is untested. I am hoping they are rather more family oriented than loosely associated, as if so, they will fit into this little, if shrinking, part of the neighborhood. Still, I hold my breath a bit. I will be looking for them, perhaps the 6th of next month. And, should I see or hear them arrive, I will at least offer them a hand with the big things, boxes, and such should they desire any assistance. I might have to have something prepared for them to eat as well. Hmm, I will think on a menu in the meantime. Oh, BREAD! It would be nice to have bread. I will have to practice. Perhaps several of my neighbors will be getting some loaves if I can crack k's code, well, implement it any way as it is pretty straight forward. What a gal!
Bah, enough. I am off!
Early afternoon pamphlet. No more books(?).
Good morning! I went to bed at about 6:00 am. Slept pretty well, then heard the cel. It was my lady friend, she was hoping I could deliver her to the post office to pick up her mail, as she had put a stop on delivery while she was away. Not right away, perhaps in the early afternoon, she requested, as she was moving slow and had not yet showered. So be it. My alarm was set for 13:30, and I will not be going fishing until 16:00, so this should work and I let her know. Perhaps a goodbye, but certainly more sleep. At 13:00, I wake, goof with a few morning grooming and other tasks, and then decide to post.
No more books! I am not sure what I was eating or drinking, but it was just pushing me right along. Though fun, I think I will shorten my posts and try to add a bit more clarity. Reading some of them, it seems more like abstract art than good writing, or at least I see how that could be the perception. I know what I am talking about, and it is a log or diary of sorts, but if I am going to put it out as a people trap, I really should at least make some sort of effort to more than toss out my thoughts, feelings, and activities like Trump shot off the lists of deeds to be done to his corporate slave wannabes. As I think about it now, too, I may not always remember what was going on. Yes, more brevity and clarity will be the new style.
My gear is ready for fishing. I did not get around to setting my other reels up and preparing them yet. There is still time, and I think I will make a concerted effort to have this done on at least a few of them by 16:00, our departure time. I will be taking my camel back as well. I really like having water. There is enough that with our low activity, we should all be able to have a sip from time to time. The camel back has a bite valve which allows me to drink on the move, a shut-off valve, and a means by which I can remove the bite valve and essentially pour water like a small garden hose. This allows me to share water hygienically. It has also been a boon when I have wanted a splash on my face and hands, when I was being proper. After becoming tired enough, though, and running low on water as well, I decided to just take a mouthful via the bite valve and spit spray my arms, and into my hands for washing my face. I then received a little more to drink, instead of wasting as much.
Another pot of French press is set to go. I have been drinking too much of that, so I think I will end that after today, for a week or two. Back to water, milk, and my decaffeinated tea, as per my doctors request. I may not completely believe him, but he has begun to earn my trust and I am trying to work with him. Prayer helps, faith helps, and fair decent play on my part is essential as well. Have a good day.
No more books! I am not sure what I was eating or drinking, but it was just pushing me right along. Though fun, I think I will shorten my posts and try to add a bit more clarity. Reading some of them, it seems more like abstract art than good writing, or at least I see how that could be the perception. I know what I am talking about, and it is a log or diary of sorts, but if I am going to put it out as a people trap, I really should at least make some sort of effort to more than toss out my thoughts, feelings, and activities like Trump shot off the lists of deeds to be done to his corporate slave wannabes. As I think about it now, too, I may not always remember what was going on. Yes, more brevity and clarity will be the new style.
My gear is ready for fishing. I did not get around to setting my other reels up and preparing them yet. There is still time, and I think I will make a concerted effort to have this done on at least a few of them by 16:00, our departure time. I will be taking my camel back as well. I really like having water. There is enough that with our low activity, we should all be able to have a sip from time to time. The camel back has a bite valve which allows me to drink on the move, a shut-off valve, and a means by which I can remove the bite valve and essentially pour water like a small garden hose. This allows me to share water hygienically. It has also been a boon when I have wanted a splash on my face and hands, when I was being proper. After becoming tired enough, though, and running low on water as well, I decided to just take a mouthful via the bite valve and spit spray my arms, and into my hands for washing my face. I then received a little more to drink, instead of wasting as much.
Another pot of French press is set to go. I have been drinking too much of that, so I think I will end that after today, for a week or two. Back to water, milk, and my decaffeinated tea, as per my doctors request. I may not completely believe him, but he has begun to earn my trust and I am trying to work with him. Prayer helps, faith helps, and fair decent play on my part is essential as well. Have a good day.
Goodnight! *grumble*
The day should be over, but I linger. My candle is glowing and warm, the wax and flame in harmony. I think of the day, the recent days, and the days long past. It is odd how we may overlook the five pound gold nuggets for the little bit of dirt on the treasure. As I mine the past, I find that I am wealthy beyond measure. Most of my losses have been gains, many of my pains provided growth, and much of my folly has been forgiven. There are days to come, trials and tribulations, toil and pain, but I can look forward to these, smiling on them as I smile on those of the past. A little history based precognition along with faith will carry one far I think.
I managed to get the milk. I had to go through the jungle to get it, and in more ways than one. I had locked my back gate, as I was having many unwelcome and shady types wandering through my lawn at all hours of the night. That I can be up at any time, day or night, and started peaking out, and with my size, the difficulty slowed but until I finally locked the gate down it did not end. Well, it has been locked and unused for over a year. And a vine or ten had grown over the gate. I enjoy the vine, and it has it’s own uses, so I did not want to simply cut it. I negotiated it like any fine adventurer might do. Have you ever seen a bear play limbo? That is probably what it looked like. I completed the task, lowering about to mid thigh backward, and through in some odd tangle of manflesh, then I promptly locked the gate and headed to the store.
Wow, what I had indicated about the neighborhood going to pot I finally got to see very close up. Two thugs, with their various gold teeth, their customary odd gaits, definite attitude, along with their blond blue eyed yet corn-rowed girlthing walked parallel to me, going in the opposite direction. These are the type if you see on your property or heading your way somewhere they should not be, you get a shotgun, then call the police. They did not like me, and it was mutual. Nothing personal here, mostly, just business. Oil and water, they were definite floaters (needing flushed). There were others, but after the Crips, Bloods, or whatever, they were minor. It was sad to see the good people that lived in the area cower and scurry for safety, and yes, I can sense them too. Thanks to the local voters, we will be getting a lot more of the stereotypes. Thank God for .45’s. Those 9 mm’s they carry, and the way they shoot, hehe, I am not sure if it would be better or worse for them if they hit me whether I am armed or not. I am a weapon. Funny, this county only allows them to carry though. Denying conceal carry to all but the city council, and thugs (what is the difference here?). As the police certainly would not wish to hassle such fine upstanding gangsters.
I get to the store, nobody dies, and I head to the dairy section. Drats, they do not have my favorite milk. I like A&E, and I am pretty serious about it. The flavor is excellent, for pasteurized, and to me. The company adds a freshness seal under and along with the cap. It costs a little more, but lasts a good deal longer. So, I go to my next favored. It is “hormone free”, like I care. Well, actually I do! I am used to hormones at this point, especially if it goes to flavor. As well, the bottle says right on it that the FDA finds no differences in the milk. And, it is a good deal more expensive. Still, it is what I can get, it is the next in line in my flavor category, and it comes in GLASS BOTTLES (a true joy in some part of my hoary heart!). Some dietary goods I do not skimp on, milk, meat, and butter for sure. So, I grab and go. As I am leaving the store, an attractive lady takes note of me. She almost approaches and speaks. Her eyes are smiling and something else, a kind of approval, almost a recognition though I am sure I would remember such a woman, so no. She takes me in, hiking boots and woolen socks, cotton cargo shorts, poplin shirt, and on to the top of my head. And looks again to take the whole picture in as if seeing a brother, friend, or friendly past love by surprise after a long separation, and approving of a new look. It was an odd thing, but a pleasant oddity. I had no ground on which my sensibilities allowed me to tread, so I merely smiled, nodded pleasantly, and ambled back to my cave. Sometimes the sun just shines, it did at that moment and that moment will be a warming memory for some time.
Now, back to the fence I march. I really do not walk as such, I move. I slow for pleasant company’s sake, for security reasons, or rarely just because. Hmm, nice, slow times are fond memories, occasions, like finding a rose in the middle of nowhere, blossoming as if just for you. Rare and special. I can almost smell the perfumes of the various joys Father made and scattered to be found, to remind, and to please. The neighbor ladies are out and wave. I wave back as I angle toward my yard. As I get to the gate, I realize I will need to take care with the negotiation, as my pack I wore for the task of handsfree transport of my buy is now heavier and contains glass, glass beside glass more to the point. I close on the gait, unlock it, and begin a careful limbo like maneuver, safely out of view of the women. Well, ok, I am doing pretty good at first. Urhm, the ladies have walked to a position where they can view my exploits or I had misgauged the angle of their vision on my approach vector. Beyond, my pack gets stuck as I get halfway through, with one vine dropping ahead of me and below my limbo to add to the fun. So, I dance and skip to no avail. Finally, I slip out of the pack with great care and ease it to a controlled grip, all while still in my limbo maneuver. I am sure they had to have a chuckle (I would have, I am). Finally I complete the maneuver and am able to begin loosening the back pack from it’s snag. This I do swiftly in my new found freedom of motion and angle of attack. So much for the super man image.
I had not talked to the ladies in a while, so I head their way. They were waving, again, even before I decide to do so, which I take to mean I am welcome and invited by the way the wave is performed. I, though not truly shy, try to be unassuming. I stand on some old formalities, from some unknown source. An invitation is almost always necessary. A best friend asked if the invitation needed to be formal and in gold lettering, without even question it’s necessity. And being cryptic as I am, I said “Yes, and with signed delivery if you please” to great laughs. That was in highschool.
We have a little pleasant conversation, catching up on bits of this and that. They are pretty women, and friendly if often quite busy, each having three or more children, husbands, full lives, and one with a son almost ready to begin pestering his soon to be, presently pregnant, mother with his little baby boy joys. hehehe I guess I am prejudiced in some things. It is the small joys, as I keep saying. During the conversation, one of the ladies compliments my newly formed goatee. It’s a proper full one, going from nostrils to the chin and neck nexus, and then from about the middle of my eye to middle of my other eye. I thank her, but have a question. What if I shaved part of it off? And she says, just do not shave off the lower part. She believes that is a bit, well, funny. I am not exactly sure what she means, so in my practiced diplomatic way, I suggest that, yes, mustached men may easily make my gaydar go off. Apparently these ladies had never heard the term, and one sort of chuckles and repeats the term a few times, part questioning, part thinking, and then part chuckling in realization. No, she says, you would never be taken as ‘that’. Good and all, but I think to dig more holes, since I did not sink too far in this one! I say, in this town, one must take care. I have been, urhm, approached by men and I did not see it coming. Uncomfortable, I say. It is best to just be businesslike and not be too open if, as a man, you do not know the other man you are dealing with here. She agrees, and repeats part of that, while the other wife calls her husband so that we may talk. I think they have had enough male sense and sensibility for the moment.
My neighbor arrives and we begin chewing the fat. As I had written previously, we had been planning a boating event last week. But I had just not been up to it. It seems he had his hands full in any case and was probably pleased I had not contacted him, as he would have felt bad about having to say no. His sump pump failed during the last storm and they had water to deal with and a sump pump to fix. And, he had needed to take care of some of his schooling (or he was being quite diplomatic, he is a sharp fellow). As unfortunate as that was, I was relieved that neither of us had let the other down. Good, says I, so what about the future? He says, well, there is this, that, and the other day, any of which I could be free. Hmmm, tomorrow sounds swell. So, I am on for a fishing expedition, probably with pop, two boys, a boat, and lots of gear. Ha, see, was not that easy? We talk a bit more, but he must get in and finish a few odds and ends, and I need to go too, so we part with our customary hand-shake or nod.
I refrigerate the milk immediately. This organo type stuff does not last well. Then, I start thinking I am hungry. I get on the machine, and continue to ponder a meal. A few hours later, I decide it is time. Not so fast, says that nagging conscience. Do the dishes first, and when you are done, cook the grains you had indicated you would while cooking your meal. I negotiated well by caving completely. Still, the rib eye was worth the wait. I tried a new type of salt while cooking the steak. I used kosher salt, after hearing good things about it. I put just a pinch on each side, and into the hot (griddle type) pan it went. I started the millet barley mix as well. While letting the steak rest, I pour a glass of milk and set the table. I then plate the steak, table it, seat myself, say Grace, and finger my implements. I was just about to set my silverware aside in order to acquire the salt shaker, but then reconsidered. This was a new salt, why not give it a chance, I ponder. Oh, my word. That very scant salting had permeated the beef perfectly. No extra salt was necessary, nor was it too salty. Beautiful, a new find that works as advertised or better. I will have to obtain a salt pig in order to more easily use this find, as it does not shake well from my standard salt shaker and I do not wish to potentially damage this salts nature by using a salt grinder (plus, I have been eyeing salt pigs for a while, wishing for some real reason to make purchase of said).
Actually, I should add that after enough exposure, and though I do not approve, the queer crowd is not a bother so long as they do not present their problem in such a way that I may not avoid it. I spit sometimes, but I do not spit on other people. I cough, but again, I do not cough on other people. All I ask is the same courtesy. I realize this is their playground, but is decorum that dated of a concept? That even goes for straight couples. Hands were I can see them and tongues in their proper places, please. Really, if it is that necessary, find a private place and tend the problem. And as the lady said, I do not look like ‘that’, so assume not and be right once in your life. Well, two rants to maybe five rambles, not so bad.
As I complete this, I think I shall do a final bit of washing and food tending, then grumble my way off to bed in spite of being fed, satisfied, and looking forward to a new day and a new week. Sometimes a guy just needs to grumble to keep in practice I think.
I managed to get the milk. I had to go through the jungle to get it, and in more ways than one. I had locked my back gate, as I was having many unwelcome and shady types wandering through my lawn at all hours of the night. That I can be up at any time, day or night, and started peaking out, and with my size, the difficulty slowed but until I finally locked the gate down it did not end. Well, it has been locked and unused for over a year. And a vine or ten had grown over the gate. I enjoy the vine, and it has it’s own uses, so I did not want to simply cut it. I negotiated it like any fine adventurer might do. Have you ever seen a bear play limbo? That is probably what it looked like. I completed the task, lowering about to mid thigh backward, and through in some odd tangle of manflesh, then I promptly locked the gate and headed to the store.
Wow, what I had indicated about the neighborhood going to pot I finally got to see very close up. Two thugs, with their various gold teeth, their customary odd gaits, definite attitude, along with their blond blue eyed yet corn-rowed girlthing walked parallel to me, going in the opposite direction. These are the type if you see on your property or heading your way somewhere they should not be, you get a shotgun, then call the police. They did not like me, and it was mutual. Nothing personal here, mostly, just business. Oil and water, they were definite floaters (needing flushed). There were others, but after the Crips, Bloods, or whatever, they were minor. It was sad to see the good people that lived in the area cower and scurry for safety, and yes, I can sense them too. Thanks to the local voters, we will be getting a lot more of the stereotypes. Thank God for .45’s. Those 9 mm’s they carry, and the way they shoot, hehe, I am not sure if it would be better or worse for them if they hit me whether I am armed or not. I am a weapon. Funny, this county only allows them to carry though. Denying conceal carry to all but the city council, and thugs (what is the difference here?). As the police certainly would not wish to hassle such fine upstanding gangsters.
I get to the store, nobody dies, and I head to the dairy section. Drats, they do not have my favorite milk. I like A&E, and I am pretty serious about it. The flavor is excellent, for pasteurized, and to me. The company adds a freshness seal under and along with the cap. It costs a little more, but lasts a good deal longer. So, I go to my next favored. It is “hormone free”, like I care. Well, actually I do! I am used to hormones at this point, especially if it goes to flavor. As well, the bottle says right on it that the FDA finds no differences in the milk. And, it is a good deal more expensive. Still, it is what I can get, it is the next in line in my flavor category, and it comes in GLASS BOTTLES (a true joy in some part of my hoary heart!). Some dietary goods I do not skimp on, milk, meat, and butter for sure. So, I grab and go. As I am leaving the store, an attractive lady takes note of me. She almost approaches and speaks. Her eyes are smiling and something else, a kind of approval, almost a recognition though I am sure I would remember such a woman, so no. She takes me in, hiking boots and woolen socks, cotton cargo shorts, poplin shirt, and on to the top of my head. And looks again to take the whole picture in as if seeing a brother, friend, or friendly past love by surprise after a long separation, and approving of a new look. It was an odd thing, but a pleasant oddity. I had no ground on which my sensibilities allowed me to tread, so I merely smiled, nodded pleasantly, and ambled back to my cave. Sometimes the sun just shines, it did at that moment and that moment will be a warming memory for some time.
Now, back to the fence I march. I really do not walk as such, I move. I slow for pleasant company’s sake, for security reasons, or rarely just because. Hmm, nice, slow times are fond memories, occasions, like finding a rose in the middle of nowhere, blossoming as if just for you. Rare and special. I can almost smell the perfumes of the various joys Father made and scattered to be found, to remind, and to please. The neighbor ladies are out and wave. I wave back as I angle toward my yard. As I get to the gate, I realize I will need to take care with the negotiation, as my pack I wore for the task of handsfree transport of my buy is now heavier and contains glass, glass beside glass more to the point. I close on the gait, unlock it, and begin a careful limbo like maneuver, safely out of view of the women. Well, ok, I am doing pretty good at first. Urhm, the ladies have walked to a position where they can view my exploits or I had misgauged the angle of their vision on my approach vector. Beyond, my pack gets stuck as I get halfway through, with one vine dropping ahead of me and below my limbo to add to the fun. So, I dance and skip to no avail. Finally, I slip out of the pack with great care and ease it to a controlled grip, all while still in my limbo maneuver. I am sure they had to have a chuckle (I would have, I am). Finally I complete the maneuver and am able to begin loosening the back pack from it’s snag. This I do swiftly in my new found freedom of motion and angle of attack. So much for the super man image.
I had not talked to the ladies in a while, so I head their way. They were waving, again, even before I decide to do so, which I take to mean I am welcome and invited by the way the wave is performed. I, though not truly shy, try to be unassuming. I stand on some old formalities, from some unknown source. An invitation is almost always necessary. A best friend asked if the invitation needed to be formal and in gold lettering, without even question it’s necessity. And being cryptic as I am, I said “Yes, and with signed delivery if you please” to great laughs. That was in highschool.
We have a little pleasant conversation, catching up on bits of this and that. They are pretty women, and friendly if often quite busy, each having three or more children, husbands, full lives, and one with a son almost ready to begin pestering his soon to be, presently pregnant, mother with his little baby boy joys. hehehe I guess I am prejudiced in some things. It is the small joys, as I keep saying. During the conversation, one of the ladies compliments my newly formed goatee. It’s a proper full one, going from nostrils to the chin and neck nexus, and then from about the middle of my eye to middle of my other eye. I thank her, but have a question. What if I shaved part of it off? And she says, just do not shave off the lower part. She believes that is a bit, well, funny. I am not exactly sure what she means, so in my practiced diplomatic way, I suggest that, yes, mustached men may easily make my gaydar go off. Apparently these ladies had never heard the term, and one sort of chuckles and repeats the term a few times, part questioning, part thinking, and then part chuckling in realization. No, she says, you would never be taken as ‘that’. Good and all, but I think to dig more holes, since I did not sink too far in this one! I say, in this town, one must take care. I have been, urhm, approached by men and I did not see it coming. Uncomfortable, I say. It is best to just be businesslike and not be too open if, as a man, you do not know the other man you are dealing with here. She agrees, and repeats part of that, while the other wife calls her husband so that we may talk. I think they have had enough male sense and sensibility for the moment.
My neighbor arrives and we begin chewing the fat. As I had written previously, we had been planning a boating event last week. But I had just not been up to it. It seems he had his hands full in any case and was probably pleased I had not contacted him, as he would have felt bad about having to say no. His sump pump failed during the last storm and they had water to deal with and a sump pump to fix. And, he had needed to take care of some of his schooling (or he was being quite diplomatic, he is a sharp fellow). As unfortunate as that was, I was relieved that neither of us had let the other down. Good, says I, so what about the future? He says, well, there is this, that, and the other day, any of which I could be free. Hmmm, tomorrow sounds swell. So, I am on for a fishing expedition, probably with pop, two boys, a boat, and lots of gear. Ha, see, was not that easy? We talk a bit more, but he must get in and finish a few odds and ends, and I need to go too, so we part with our customary hand-shake or nod.
I refrigerate the milk immediately. This organo type stuff does not last well. Then, I start thinking I am hungry. I get on the machine, and continue to ponder a meal. A few hours later, I decide it is time. Not so fast, says that nagging conscience. Do the dishes first, and when you are done, cook the grains you had indicated you would while cooking your meal. I negotiated well by caving completely. Still, the rib eye was worth the wait. I tried a new type of salt while cooking the steak. I used kosher salt, after hearing good things about it. I put just a pinch on each side, and into the hot (griddle type) pan it went. I started the millet barley mix as well. While letting the steak rest, I pour a glass of milk and set the table. I then plate the steak, table it, seat myself, say Grace, and finger my implements. I was just about to set my silverware aside in order to acquire the salt shaker, but then reconsidered. This was a new salt, why not give it a chance, I ponder. Oh, my word. That very scant salting had permeated the beef perfectly. No extra salt was necessary, nor was it too salty. Beautiful, a new find that works as advertised or better. I will have to obtain a salt pig in order to more easily use this find, as it does not shake well from my standard salt shaker and I do not wish to potentially damage this salts nature by using a salt grinder (plus, I have been eyeing salt pigs for a while, wishing for some real reason to make purchase of said).
Actually, I should add that after enough exposure, and though I do not approve, the queer crowd is not a bother so long as they do not present their problem in such a way that I may not avoid it. I spit sometimes, but I do not spit on other people. I cough, but again, I do not cough on other people. All I ask is the same courtesy. I realize this is their playground, but is decorum that dated of a concept? That even goes for straight couples. Hands were I can see them and tongues in their proper places, please. Really, if it is that necessary, find a private place and tend the problem. And as the lady said, I do not look like ‘that’, so assume not and be right once in your life. Well, two rants to maybe five rambles, not so bad.
As I complete this, I think I shall do a final bit of washing and food tending, then grumble my way off to bed in spite of being fed, satisfied, and looking forward to a new day and a new week. Sometimes a guy just needs to grumble to keep in practice I think.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Hmm, I wonder how accurate this is to the real thing?
If this is at all accurate, then government is the spoof.

For the record, it said I had pussy once, knife twice, and dead three times. Pussy was of the cat type, mostly. Knife was regarding kitchen utensils, I think. And I have been dead three times so it works out, I do not care how I used the word "dead".
Oops, just messed up my ratings!
Update:
Yes, the rating is now PG-13. But they added hurt once and changed it to only indicated death once.
Doh!
Update, part deux:
Still PG-13, but they are thinking about calling the Family Circle and might not talk to me again. It is getting racy here, apparently Ha!
For the record, it said I had pussy once, knife twice, and dead three times. Pussy was of the cat type, mostly. Knife was regarding kitchen utensils, I think. And I have been dead three times so it works out, I do not care how I used the word "dead".
Oops, just messed up my ratings!
Update:
Yes, the rating is now PG-13. But they added hurt once and changed it to only indicated death once.
Doh!
Update, part deux:
Still PG-13, but they are thinking about calling the Family Circle and might not talk to me again. It is getting racy here, apparently Ha!
Another day, another book, I think I will have to stop eating beans?
The soup was delivered. I drove to the Co-op and gave her a call, letting her know what the three soup de jour were. She picked quickly, then ended the call. I had to call back to learn what size of container she desired. Large, as usual, she says. I load the containers, pay the fine, and walk free to my vehicle. She answers the door a little weak and tired looking and sounding.
I ask if she would mind sharing some of the soup, so that I might then go right on out and hike rather than returning to the cave for a bite. Plus, soup would be liter fare than I have available. Well, she thinks, sure she says. But she admonishes me to remove my boots and to figure out how to accommodate my meal seating arrangement. Certainly, I assure her. She, while I remove my boots, removes herself to her kitchen area and begins to pluck the bowls and spoons for her very rare guest and herself. We discuss a few things, about the trip, yesterday, and the foods we are exploring. She finishes ladling the soup and decides to direct my facilitations for the meal and passes the instructions to me. We both take our places, and I am just about to ask her if she wishes to be included in the grace, but before I have more than a moment to ponder, she springs up and asks me about the same. We, as I do with her, mother, or any guests who know me, hold hands and I lead the simple prayer. Once complete, she returns to her place and we begin to consume.
The soup was fine. It was a tomato, chicken, steak, sausage, well spiced affair, with several vegetables. Though watery, the textures of the meat and tomatoes with the hot but not lasting spice made it just right. A little more conversation intervened the beginning and finish of our breaking of bread, so to speak. The conversations through out the visit were light, sporadic, and soft in nature as she is ill and I wished her to be more at peace. After finishing, and I finished first for a change, I arose to place my implement and large soup cup in the sink. She finishes as I am doing this, so I collect her spent dishes and set them in their place.
I notice she has dishes, so I ask if she would mind if I did these few things and straightened up a bit. There was surprise in her voice as she said she had no objections. She does this at my place, from time to time, albeit as a form of payment for using my laundering facilities, which saves her a fair coin. As I am doing this, she begs my attention in providing one of her popsicles, a coconut flavored one, for her dessert. I do this and remove the wrappings and dispose of those. I finish with the dishes washing, drying, then putting away all but the camping plastic silverware as she prefers these to air dry. I take care of her coffee pot while I am at it, clean the cutting board and the area a bit, and then speak to her a bit more before heading out.
I decide to drive out to my usual, to this point, hiking trail. There are several people, perhaps even others I cannot yet see, so I think about other spots. Realizing it is a Sunday and many will be out today, that my funds are limited and my gas is therefore limited, I decide to return to my cave.
On the way home, I decide to try and find a shorter and perhaps more relaxed regular rout. So, using what I know and what I think I remember, I begin taking a different set of paths. I set upon a way that is looking perfect. I have to turn around a time or two, as I arrive at places I do not think are favorable or pass a turn which I believe might prove to be more favorable. Sure enough, I strike on a path that is both shorter, less traveled, and quicker to boot I do believe, than those several I had been using up to this point. Ha, but it takes me right through that little secluded campus area.
Now, whether it was chance, whether it is a normal function, whether the locals actually read my blog and worry, or whether someone there spotted my vehicle and called it in, I will never know, but after driving through and heading back on the last stretch of my new path, and shortly after leaving the quiet intellectual secular cloister, I see a patrol car heading the opposite direction and back toward the secluded campus. He eyed me fairly closely as we passed, though, so I have my suspicions. If they are watching me, their eye is not on the ball. All I can say is, “Duck”.
I was going to buy milk on the way home. The Q.O.D. had returned some of the money I had spent on the soup, while almost tearfully, and a bit in a panic, realized she owed me for this, that, and the other thing. A few dollars mean more to her then me, even when I am broke. So, I assured her it was fine. Whenever and what she could pay. Though as I reflect, I will probably forgive most of it. I will keep enough of the debt and favor that she strives a little and does not become complacent. Anyway, perhaps I will go out for milk now. Two gallons a week is my goal. It has kept my bones and teeth so very strong that even through negligence, accident, and hard treatment at times, I have yet to break a bone. Oh, and the taste. I see documentaries where Africans mix milk and blood (cattle blood and milk, but it used to be the blood of enemies until Christianity crashed their party, for good or ill). I can think that would be the only thing better than pure milk. I would buy unpasteurized milk, if I could. Hmm, rather than pull the X’ter out, I might just wander over to the store. It is only a block or three, and I have a minor old pack that would allow hands free transport of my white honey.
I am not sure what to do today, with the traffic and crowds. If it would rain, I might go out and do the trail as I am almost assured to be alone and I am well equipped for such eventualities. It is not that I am anti-social, truly. It is just that in certain places, I go to let out and be myself. Sometimes I see it as my path, but other times I see it as their path, whoever they may be. It offers some perspective and allows me to think more deeply about how to treat others while I am on our path. I am a bit tired, but that is to be expected with my varied sleep the last few days. It would be nice to get the body a bit of a work out so we might sleep together tonight and wake up refreshed tomorrow morning, in time for a shower, shave, breakfast, my menu of blogs, news, and tinkering, then to church, and the climbing wall to top it off. Let me think on it while I retrieve my milk.
I have not been able to make telephone contact with my Mum. This always bums me out a bit. It can be days or weeks, but when I feel the need to check on her, share my day and news, or just hear her voice, it is time sensitive, stressing, and maybe a bit distressing to not be able to find her. Her battery may be down while her charger is somewhere else, she travels to her love’s place as her and his needs and her moods dictate. She is also a busy woman, and purposefully stays that way while she is hale. It is a good thing that I cannot find her, a good sign most surely. But knowledge does not cut through emotion, so I stew and fret.
I really do have a wonderful little life. My needs are handily met, my wants can be and are being supplied with a little work, planning, and sacrifice, and I am finding great satisfaction in that endeavor. I have a wonderful imagination and sense of humor for my own consumption, since I have few to share it with. My circle of friends grows, though, here and in the world, as I expand the boundaries of my world in real terms and in terms of interests and activities. My family may be coming together again shortly. My thoughts are clear, my memory is very functional, my chivalry is alive and handsome and only becoming more alive and true with time. Romance is something I am enjoying, with many women, in a chaste and joyful way. Yes, an elder blossom, a young girl, a woman, and even my Mother receives this chaste sweet sort of affection in her own special way. As well, I am becoming a strong and proud freeman, a silverback in my particular world. And more, I know it. I cherish this life. Even should you hear me cuss, rage, shout, doubt, and fear, know too, I now associate with the Source of Wisdom in such a way as to overcome my emotions and doubts, I have the bravery to face my fears, toils, and failings, and I have the strength to live and die rightly. I only hope He is pleased with His work.
I ask if she would mind sharing some of the soup, so that I might then go right on out and hike rather than returning to the cave for a bite. Plus, soup would be liter fare than I have available. Well, she thinks, sure she says. But she admonishes me to remove my boots and to figure out how to accommodate my meal seating arrangement. Certainly, I assure her. She, while I remove my boots, removes herself to her kitchen area and begins to pluck the bowls and spoons for her very rare guest and herself. We discuss a few things, about the trip, yesterday, and the foods we are exploring. She finishes ladling the soup and decides to direct my facilitations for the meal and passes the instructions to me. We both take our places, and I am just about to ask her if she wishes to be included in the grace, but before I have more than a moment to ponder, she springs up and asks me about the same. We, as I do with her, mother, or any guests who know me, hold hands and I lead the simple prayer. Once complete, she returns to her place and we begin to consume.
The soup was fine. It was a tomato, chicken, steak, sausage, well spiced affair, with several vegetables. Though watery, the textures of the meat and tomatoes with the hot but not lasting spice made it just right. A little more conversation intervened the beginning and finish of our breaking of bread, so to speak. The conversations through out the visit were light, sporadic, and soft in nature as she is ill and I wished her to be more at peace. After finishing, and I finished first for a change, I arose to place my implement and large soup cup in the sink. She finishes as I am doing this, so I collect her spent dishes and set them in their place.
I notice she has dishes, so I ask if she would mind if I did these few things and straightened up a bit. There was surprise in her voice as she said she had no objections. She does this at my place, from time to time, albeit as a form of payment for using my laundering facilities, which saves her a fair coin. As I am doing this, she begs my attention in providing one of her popsicles, a coconut flavored one, for her dessert. I do this and remove the wrappings and dispose of those. I finish with the dishes washing, drying, then putting away all but the camping plastic silverware as she prefers these to air dry. I take care of her coffee pot while I am at it, clean the cutting board and the area a bit, and then speak to her a bit more before heading out.
I decide to drive out to my usual, to this point, hiking trail. There are several people, perhaps even others I cannot yet see, so I think about other spots. Realizing it is a Sunday and many will be out today, that my funds are limited and my gas is therefore limited, I decide to return to my cave.
On the way home, I decide to try and find a shorter and perhaps more relaxed regular rout. So, using what I know and what I think I remember, I begin taking a different set of paths. I set upon a way that is looking perfect. I have to turn around a time or two, as I arrive at places I do not think are favorable or pass a turn which I believe might prove to be more favorable. Sure enough, I strike on a path that is both shorter, less traveled, and quicker to boot I do believe, than those several I had been using up to this point. Ha, but it takes me right through that little secluded campus area.
Now, whether it was chance, whether it is a normal function, whether the locals actually read my blog and worry, or whether someone there spotted my vehicle and called it in, I will never know, but after driving through and heading back on the last stretch of my new path, and shortly after leaving the quiet intellectual secular cloister, I see a patrol car heading the opposite direction and back toward the secluded campus. He eyed me fairly closely as we passed, though, so I have my suspicions. If they are watching me, their eye is not on the ball. All I can say is, “Duck”.
I was going to buy milk on the way home. The Q.O.D. had returned some of the money I had spent on the soup, while almost tearfully, and a bit in a panic, realized she owed me for this, that, and the other thing. A few dollars mean more to her then me, even when I am broke. So, I assured her it was fine. Whenever and what she could pay. Though as I reflect, I will probably forgive most of it. I will keep enough of the debt and favor that she strives a little and does not become complacent. Anyway, perhaps I will go out for milk now. Two gallons a week is my goal. It has kept my bones and teeth so very strong that even through negligence, accident, and hard treatment at times, I have yet to break a bone. Oh, and the taste. I see documentaries where Africans mix milk and blood (cattle blood and milk, but it used to be the blood of enemies until Christianity crashed their party, for good or ill). I can think that would be the only thing better than pure milk. I would buy unpasteurized milk, if I could. Hmm, rather than pull the X’ter out, I might just wander over to the store. It is only a block or three, and I have a minor old pack that would allow hands free transport of my white honey.
I am not sure what to do today, with the traffic and crowds. If it would rain, I might go out and do the trail as I am almost assured to be alone and I am well equipped for such eventualities. It is not that I am anti-social, truly. It is just that in certain places, I go to let out and be myself. Sometimes I see it as my path, but other times I see it as their path, whoever they may be. It offers some perspective and allows me to think more deeply about how to treat others while I am on our path. I am a bit tired, but that is to be expected with my varied sleep the last few days. It would be nice to get the body a bit of a work out so we might sleep together tonight and wake up refreshed tomorrow morning, in time for a shower, shave, breakfast, my menu of blogs, news, and tinkering, then to church, and the climbing wall to top it off. Let me think on it while I retrieve my milk.
I have not been able to make telephone contact with my Mum. This always bums me out a bit. It can be days or weeks, but when I feel the need to check on her, share my day and news, or just hear her voice, it is time sensitive, stressing, and maybe a bit distressing to not be able to find her. Her battery may be down while her charger is somewhere else, she travels to her love’s place as her and his needs and her moods dictate. She is also a busy woman, and purposefully stays that way while she is hale. It is a good thing that I cannot find her, a good sign most surely. But knowledge does not cut through emotion, so I stew and fret.
I really do have a wonderful little life. My needs are handily met, my wants can be and are being supplied with a little work, planning, and sacrifice, and I am finding great satisfaction in that endeavor. I have a wonderful imagination and sense of humor for my own consumption, since I have few to share it with. My circle of friends grows, though, here and in the world, as I expand the boundaries of my world in real terms and in terms of interests and activities. My family may be coming together again shortly. My thoughts are clear, my memory is very functional, my chivalry is alive and handsome and only becoming more alive and true with time. Romance is something I am enjoying, with many women, in a chaste and joyful way. Yes, an elder blossom, a young girl, a woman, and even my Mother receives this chaste sweet sort of affection in her own special way. As well, I am becoming a strong and proud freeman, a silverback in my particular world. And more, I know it. I cherish this life. Even should you hear me cuss, rage, shout, doubt, and fear, know too, I now associate with the Source of Wisdom in such a way as to overcome my emotions and doubts, I have the bravery to face my fears, toils, and failings, and I have the strength to live and die rightly. I only hope He is pleased with His work.
What, really, what was that about? I do not know.
I cannot remember when I finally went to bed. Sometime between 04:00 and 05:00 maybe. I awoke at 18:00, noted the hour, and rolled back into bed with nary a thought process running or an inclination for such, then awoke finally at 23:30. Well, we both know this is not true, now. It was actually 06:00 and 11:30. Weird, I seem to be doing pretty good on just a few hours of sleep, but I cannot seem to get past that little bit of sleep to reset my day and night schedule. I get up just as well now, two days running, and at the same times, as I was getting up with 8 to 12 hours of sleep. Actually, this is better. Headaches seem to have vanished and I am waking with a bit more energy. Folly, I say.
No dishes were done, not millet and barley was produced. I just goofed and then collapsed. I had a wonderful time with the music though. Another stout or dozen would have been great. Other beer would have been fine. Some scotch would have been out of this world. But no, I have had beer recently on several occasions, and I enjoyed what I had. I left it there. It is at least as fun to miss it now as it was to indulge more fully at one time. Being broke is never an issue, as there are ways to deal with that, should I truly want. Or, at least it seems there probably is a way.
I thought she had not called as she was too sick to go camping tonight. That is what I expect anyway. But the time has not come or gone for that, so I will get to see. It looks like it might be storming, again, tonight. Still, that I did not miss an potential opportunity is comforting. However, I did miss church. I would like to kick myself, but I know this does not help. I really am frustrated with my current situation. I am so close, I actually am doing quite well in that I am fully awake when I am awake, I am awake for many more hours at a time full days really, my blood pressure and pulse are good, my “diabetes” is what they call “remarkably controlled”, and my life is coming back on line. But with this sleep issue, my life still is not quite my own. I cannot trust that on a given day I will be awake at the right time or have enough energy to do what is needed or even what I want. So close, so very close. I see my doc on the 29th, so we will see what we can do. And, as is, I can still be getting out and galloping paths, fishing, wall climbing, and getting to church when I can and so long as it is not scheduled too closely. I know I am almost there, that is what is so darned tooting frustrating.
Boy am I hungry. I think I am going to grab something to toss down my gullet. Have fun, guys and dolls. The real sandman only arrives once (for most), and you cannot know when that will be. Though might I suggest you use some discretion in your reverie?
Breakfast is off for a bit. The Queen needs soup. She does sound terrible and I promised to nurse her should she have need. No camping trip tonight I can tell. With the weather and my frustration, it probably is not a bad thing. I think I will try egg à la coque when I return.
No dishes were done, not millet and barley was produced. I just goofed and then collapsed. I had a wonderful time with the music though. Another stout or dozen would have been great. Other beer would have been fine. Some scotch would have been out of this world. But no, I have had beer recently on several occasions, and I enjoyed what I had. I left it there. It is at least as fun to miss it now as it was to indulge more fully at one time. Being broke is never an issue, as there are ways to deal with that, should I truly want. Or, at least it seems there probably is a way.
I thought she had not called as she was too sick to go camping tonight. That is what I expect anyway. But the time has not come or gone for that, so I will get to see. It looks like it might be storming, again, tonight. Still, that I did not miss an potential opportunity is comforting. However, I did miss church. I would like to kick myself, but I know this does not help. I really am frustrated with my current situation. I am so close, I actually am doing quite well in that I am fully awake when I am awake, I am awake for many more hours at a time full days really, my blood pressure and pulse are good, my “diabetes” is what they call “remarkably controlled”, and my life is coming back on line. But with this sleep issue, my life still is not quite my own. I cannot trust that on a given day I will be awake at the right time or have enough energy to do what is needed or even what I want. So close, so very close. I see my doc on the 29th, so we will see what we can do. And, as is, I can still be getting out and galloping paths, fishing, wall climbing, and getting to church when I can and so long as it is not scheduled too closely. I know I am almost there, that is what is so darned tooting frustrating.
Boy am I hungry. I think I am going to grab something to toss down my gullet. Have fun, guys and dolls. The real sandman only arrives once (for most), and you cannot know when that will be. Though might I suggest you use some discretion in your reverie?
Breakfast is off for a bit. The Queen needs soup. She does sound terrible and I promised to nurse her should she have need. No camping trip tonight I can tell. With the weather and my frustration, it probably is not a bad thing. I think I will try egg à la coque when I return.
A minor task completed.
I left to pick up the Queen in plenty of time, but without my cel. I drove to what I had thought would be the pick up spot. I could not remember if she had detailed where I was to pick her up, though I had thought it was to be where I had deposited her. She said she would be returning sometime between 5:00 pm and 6:00 pm. As 5:30 pm rolled around and no one was arriving, I decided to take the risk of being a bit late by going home to collect the cel. I got home and nary a message or even a call. So be it, I go back to the place I expected to be collecting her majesty.
I then decided to take a risk and call her, hoping her phone was not stuck back in one of her packs. Surely enough though, she answered and informed me that I was correct about the location but that they would not arrive for another 45 minutes to an hour. And she assured me she had indicated her return would be between 5:30 and 6:30 pm. “Oh”, she said, “You are already there waiting?”. Yes, little one. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you”. As for me, I indicated that this was no difficulty. I could just stretch my legs and take in some fresh air. Something from her indicating surprise, and affirmation, and a “See you soon”. Click.
So, true to my word, I got out and strolled. Now, this is not a high security place, but it is a secluded technology research, medical research, and who knows what else part of the University of Iowa. It is very quiet and secluded, actually. Since I am not of a nefarious nature, I head out. I stay away from buildings, on sidewalks where they are provided, and go for decent stretches in singular directions to minimize security referrals, yet I know my nature will draw interest regardless. I am a curious sort and my head is on a swivel, looking here and there, directed by sound and movement when applicable, general interests when not attracted by something. I kept expecting someone to ask what I was doing or who I was. I walk several miles total, first in one direction, then back, then another. I then noticed a few vehicles of the type used for boating adventures drive by seemingly headed in the correct direction, so I decide to head back.
I arrive at the location, but it seems these vehicles were for some other event as they were nowhere in sight. That is fine, I decided I would cool down a bit until she arrives. So I unlock and hop in my vehicle. As soon as I have the windows down and begin relaxing, security arrives. A single patrol car with a single officer cruises in then drives along every rout I took, looking for me I am quite certain. I just watch him. He looks my way exactly once and never approaches my vehicle. Yes, eggheads and technology are precious, but can they not do more than call someone? If so, they are dead if one like me but with other priorities visits their little nest. And the officer will not be able to help them, as has been shown. Ha, as I said, I have popcorn. I cannot wait until the various and many “Tantos” in their midst, when the defecation hits the ventilation, turn to them and say, “What do you mean “us”, white man”. Hahahahaha It is the simple joys, people.
Anyway, so the party arrives and disembarks. I spot Tiger Lily in the crowd and head her way. Without more than a glance, she just heads to her gear and points. Her duffle is almost bigger than she is, so I grab that, her chair, and her gear (shovel, clasper, etc) bag, and she takes her pack, and we go back to the X’ter. Everything goes in the back, as it might be muddy and stinky, so I say. Not completely happy with that but not really interested in an argument so long as I do the work, this gets done. Oh, but she needs something out of her pack. She retrieves it to near the front passenger door, finds and takes her desired item, and leaves it by her door for me to restore to the place it had previously resided. Fine, I actually enjoy her antics now that I do not have to live with them full time. Then, she tells me she may be a bit ill. The strain of the week and perhaps river water contamination may have left her with strep throat.
She is very tired, but she wants to go to a restaurant. I say, fine, but I am broke. No problem she adds. Hmm, but she is more tired than that, now, she thinks. Just take her home she says. Are you sure, I ask. Yes, positive. She then talks about a few of the events, with me asking a few questions and truly interested. I enjoy tales, and she tells them fairly well. Then she decides New Pioneer Coop is where I should take her first. She needs coffee for sure, and a few things for this and that. She will get these and go home for a quick meal (minus me) and sleep. Alright, I say. A few more tales the rest of the way into town and to the store. Out she hops and into the store she goes. She is in there for a goodly while, I am in no hurry without a worry today so I barely notice. She comes back with obviously more than what she had indicated was on her shopping list. To your house, she declares. I love the way you do tilapia and salad, which she had purchased, along with three stouts and her other needs. Ah, it brings me no small joy to actually do something that is appreciated. Even more so from this finicky feline.
So, home I go, and supper I begin to produce while she fusses with this or that before eventually settling in to play a computer word game we both play, Bookworm Deluxe. A friend introduced it to us sometime back. Our friend’s high score is about 200-300k, Q.O.D. has gotten to a million now (I am so proud of her, really). While my score languishes at 17 some million for my favored part of the game and 18 some million for my least favored part, oddly. Ha, and they are the English types, our friend received her master(?for education?) in English. They try to say it is not fair, as I have all this time. I say, I made my first million score the fourth time I played. Girls and their rules when they do not win. Immediately she asks for air of some kind, preferably outside air I believe I heard. While she is settling in and taking care of that which she wishes to offer care, she begs for some vinegar, apple vinegar being preferable. In the fridge, I direct. She gargles some of the stuff to ease her soar throat. Oh, and some classical music, she intones. The windows come up and then I begin fiddling with the dial on the receiver. No classical music can I find, not a consonance or chord, neither fiddle nor oboe. So, I turn on the DVD player and out pours some of my other favored sounds. Vivaldi, Albinoni’s Complete oboe collection, Mozart, and other productions I had previously been enjoying began spilling out and filling my humble cave. Oh, she says, then asks if it is that radio station. She always seems a little surprised that an ogre actually listens to classical music. This in spite of the fact that it was I who led her to begin her own collection, giving her parts of mine and helping her buy some, before she went on to buy even more on her own. *laughs* *sighs* The life of a monster, let me tell you.
Anyway, she was happy with the meal. I too enjoyed, but the stout was my favorite of the offerings. I will have to let one commenter know that he has good taste, even if I still prefer my beers. I sure would not pass up a stout, might even buy one should the fiddle be playing the right tune on some future night. She bought and brought watermelon to the table when I had started setting our places. After the rest had been consumed, save the finishing of the stouts, she flashed her sad puppy eyes and lowered her bottom lip and asked if I would cut it up for her. At first, I thought she meant just to cut her a slice. No, she really did want me to cube her portion of watermelon. Well, I can do that with less than a thought, and I did. She did feel a little special, and completely satisfied. But, it was time to go. So, we grabbed her groceries (some needed the freezer, some needed the fridge, so they had all been brought in). As well, and sadly, she took the extra stout. Ha, tricky girl. While we had supped, we spoke of the foods we were each exploring. She is trying millet and something else, but was curious about millet and barley. So, I says to the she beast, why do you not have me cook some of this. I have plenty of time and am curious as well. I have plenty of rice and beans prepared and on hand as well, so mixing for the correct proteins should be easy. She concurs.
On the way home we made another stop at New Pioneer (Coop). She sent me off to find organic lemons (nasty looking, and they do not last, but it is her nickel, urhm, dime) and organic apple vinegar while she was supposed to be trying to get a refund for a purchase she did not make the previous visit, a 99 cent cookie. She decided organic apple vinegar was necessary henceforth, in spite of my offer to pack her off with the remnants (most of the bottle) of my (decidedly non-organic) apple vinegar . She also grabbed some millet for me at the store. She, I swear, had indicated she wanted 3 lemons. I got them but there seemed to be one too many for her, but it would do she thought. *laughs* And the apple vinegar I brought was too large (so, she got a smaller (and more expensive per ounce) jug). Then, back to her duplex we went. I unloaded for her, and as usual, she was in the way and wondered why I did not place her gear where she had indicated (and where she was standing). *laughs* Did I say I really enjoy this? I do. Proof is in the pudding and whatnot. So, settled though fidgeting around her outside plants and this and that, I am about to leave, when I remember she was to give me some barley to mix with the millet. I get that and go.
Sometime during the events, I asked her if she would like to travel a bit this summer, and offered to pay half the gas and pack her kayak on my vehicle so we could both get out a bit more, even if only for half days. She seemed quite enamored with the idea. Beyond, she thinks we will go camping tomorrow evening to test the tent I bought last year on her request (she will probably buy if off me if she likes it), cook out, and spend the night out. Sounds like it might be a fun summer. Who knows, she might even give me another chance at canoeing, though this time we would have to weight her end a bit. I have enough iron weights of sufficient and varied mass to do the trick just right. Still, I am not so sure she is of a mind to do such a thing. Unlike me, she hates swimming, even if she looks darn cute wet and red faced. I think she would go out more and alone, but she is afraid, and of many things, out there. Her idealism shatters where serious reality cannot be negotiated, and this is one of those places. She does, I do believe, trust me to be excellent security.
Well, now to do some dishes, finish (as if I ever really could) listening to the music, and see if I can either settle down or try a real overnighter. Oh, I think I will cook the millet and barley too. All food makes me curious. I am still seeking a place to buy the needed very fresh supplies for a full tête de veau meal, tripe for some of my already favored cuisine, kidney, sweetmeats and a few other odds and ends. All in time, I suppose. I have also heard squirrel brain is a treat but I know where to get those myself.
I should mention, writing while listening to lively classical music could result in a book. Your mileage may vary.
I then decided to take a risk and call her, hoping her phone was not stuck back in one of her packs. Surely enough though, she answered and informed me that I was correct about the location but that they would not arrive for another 45 minutes to an hour. And she assured me she had indicated her return would be between 5:30 and 6:30 pm. “Oh”, she said, “You are already there waiting?”. Yes, little one. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you”. As for me, I indicated that this was no difficulty. I could just stretch my legs and take in some fresh air. Something from her indicating surprise, and affirmation, and a “See you soon”. Click.
So, true to my word, I got out and strolled. Now, this is not a high security place, but it is a secluded technology research, medical research, and who knows what else part of the University of Iowa. It is very quiet and secluded, actually. Since I am not of a nefarious nature, I head out. I stay away from buildings, on sidewalks where they are provided, and go for decent stretches in singular directions to minimize security referrals, yet I know my nature will draw interest regardless. I am a curious sort and my head is on a swivel, looking here and there, directed by sound and movement when applicable, general interests when not attracted by something. I kept expecting someone to ask what I was doing or who I was. I walk several miles total, first in one direction, then back, then another. I then noticed a few vehicles of the type used for boating adventures drive by seemingly headed in the correct direction, so I decide to head back.
I arrive at the location, but it seems these vehicles were for some other event as they were nowhere in sight. That is fine, I decided I would cool down a bit until she arrives. So I unlock and hop in my vehicle. As soon as I have the windows down and begin relaxing, security arrives. A single patrol car with a single officer cruises in then drives along every rout I took, looking for me I am quite certain. I just watch him. He looks my way exactly once and never approaches my vehicle. Yes, eggheads and technology are precious, but can they not do more than call someone? If so, they are dead if one like me but with other priorities visits their little nest. And the officer will not be able to help them, as has been shown. Ha, as I said, I have popcorn. I cannot wait until the various and many “Tantos” in their midst, when the defecation hits the ventilation, turn to them and say, “What do you mean “us”, white man”. Hahahahaha It is the simple joys, people.
Anyway, so the party arrives and disembarks. I spot Tiger Lily in the crowd and head her way. Without more than a glance, she just heads to her gear and points. Her duffle is almost bigger than she is, so I grab that, her chair, and her gear (shovel, clasper, etc) bag, and she takes her pack, and we go back to the X’ter. Everything goes in the back, as it might be muddy and stinky, so I say. Not completely happy with that but not really interested in an argument so long as I do the work, this gets done. Oh, but she needs something out of her pack. She retrieves it to near the front passenger door, finds and takes her desired item, and leaves it by her door for me to restore to the place it had previously resided. Fine, I actually enjoy her antics now that I do not have to live with them full time. Then, she tells me she may be a bit ill. The strain of the week and perhaps river water contamination may have left her with strep throat.
She is very tired, but she wants to go to a restaurant. I say, fine, but I am broke. No problem she adds. Hmm, but she is more tired than that, now, she thinks. Just take her home she says. Are you sure, I ask. Yes, positive. She then talks about a few of the events, with me asking a few questions and truly interested. I enjoy tales, and she tells them fairly well. Then she decides New Pioneer Coop is where I should take her first. She needs coffee for sure, and a few things for this and that. She will get these and go home for a quick meal (minus me) and sleep. Alright, I say. A few more tales the rest of the way into town and to the store. Out she hops and into the store she goes. She is in there for a goodly while, I am in no hurry without a worry today so I barely notice. She comes back with obviously more than what she had indicated was on her shopping list. To your house, she declares. I love the way you do tilapia and salad, which she had purchased, along with three stouts and her other needs. Ah, it brings me no small joy to actually do something that is appreciated. Even more so from this finicky feline.
So, home I go, and supper I begin to produce while she fusses with this or that before eventually settling in to play a computer word game we both play, Bookworm Deluxe. A friend introduced it to us sometime back. Our friend’s high score is about 200-300k, Q.O.D. has gotten to a million now (I am so proud of her, really). While my score languishes at 17 some million for my favored part of the game and 18 some million for my least favored part, oddly. Ha, and they are the English types, our friend received her master(?for education?) in English. They try to say it is not fair, as I have all this time. I say, I made my first million score the fourth time I played. Girls and their rules when they do not win. Immediately she asks for air of some kind, preferably outside air I believe I heard. While she is settling in and taking care of that which she wishes to offer care, she begs for some vinegar, apple vinegar being preferable. In the fridge, I direct. She gargles some of the stuff to ease her soar throat. Oh, and some classical music, she intones. The windows come up and then I begin fiddling with the dial on the receiver. No classical music can I find, not a consonance or chord, neither fiddle nor oboe. So, I turn on the DVD player and out pours some of my other favored sounds. Vivaldi, Albinoni’s Complete oboe collection, Mozart, and other productions I had previously been enjoying began spilling out and filling my humble cave. Oh, she says, then asks if it is that radio station. She always seems a little surprised that an ogre actually listens to classical music. This in spite of the fact that it was I who led her to begin her own collection, giving her parts of mine and helping her buy some, before she went on to buy even more on her own. *laughs* *sighs* The life of a monster, let me tell you.
Anyway, she was happy with the meal. I too enjoyed, but the stout was my favorite of the offerings. I will have to let one commenter know that he has good taste, even if I still prefer my beers. I sure would not pass up a stout, might even buy one should the fiddle be playing the right tune on some future night. She bought and brought watermelon to the table when I had started setting our places. After the rest had been consumed, save the finishing of the stouts, she flashed her sad puppy eyes and lowered her bottom lip and asked if I would cut it up for her. At first, I thought she meant just to cut her a slice. No, she really did want me to cube her portion of watermelon. Well, I can do that with less than a thought, and I did. She did feel a little special, and completely satisfied. But, it was time to go. So, we grabbed her groceries (some needed the freezer, some needed the fridge, so they had all been brought in). As well, and sadly, she took the extra stout. Ha, tricky girl. While we had supped, we spoke of the foods we were each exploring. She is trying millet and something else, but was curious about millet and barley. So, I says to the she beast, why do you not have me cook some of this. I have plenty of time and am curious as well. I have plenty of rice and beans prepared and on hand as well, so mixing for the correct proteins should be easy. She concurs.
On the way home we made another stop at New Pioneer (Coop). She sent me off to find organic lemons (nasty looking, and they do not last, but it is her nickel, urhm, dime) and organic apple vinegar while she was supposed to be trying to get a refund for a purchase she did not make the previous visit, a 99 cent cookie. She decided organic apple vinegar was necessary henceforth, in spite of my offer to pack her off with the remnants (most of the bottle) of my (decidedly non-organic) apple vinegar . She also grabbed some millet for me at the store. She, I swear, had indicated she wanted 3 lemons. I got them but there seemed to be one too many for her, but it would do she thought. *laughs* And the apple vinegar I brought was too large (so, she got a smaller (and more expensive per ounce) jug). Then, back to her duplex we went. I unloaded for her, and as usual, she was in the way and wondered why I did not place her gear where she had indicated (and where she was standing). *laughs* Did I say I really enjoy this? I do. Proof is in the pudding and whatnot. So, settled though fidgeting around her outside plants and this and that, I am about to leave, when I remember she was to give me some barley to mix with the millet. I get that and go.
Sometime during the events, I asked her if she would like to travel a bit this summer, and offered to pay half the gas and pack her kayak on my vehicle so we could both get out a bit more, even if only for half days. She seemed quite enamored with the idea. Beyond, she thinks we will go camping tomorrow evening to test the tent I bought last year on her request (she will probably buy if off me if she likes it), cook out, and spend the night out. Sounds like it might be a fun summer. Who knows, she might even give me another chance at canoeing, though this time we would have to weight her end a bit. I have enough iron weights of sufficient and varied mass to do the trick just right. Still, I am not so sure she is of a mind to do such a thing. Unlike me, she hates swimming, even if she looks darn cute wet and red faced. I think she would go out more and alone, but she is afraid, and of many things, out there. Her idealism shatters where serious reality cannot be negotiated, and this is one of those places. She does, I do believe, trust me to be excellent security.
Well, now to do some dishes, finish (as if I ever really could) listening to the music, and see if I can either settle down or try a real overnighter. Oh, I think I will cook the millet and barley too. All food makes me curious. I am still seeking a place to buy the needed very fresh supplies for a full tête de veau meal, tripe for some of my already favored cuisine, kidney, sweetmeats and a few other odds and ends. All in time, I suppose. I have also heard squirrel brain is a treat but I know where to get those myself.
I should mention, writing while listening to lively classical music could result in a book. Your mileage may vary.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Broke, but I can deal with that.
I checked my accounts, yep, well and truly broke. I went through the bills, decided what my required expenses are, where I want to be, how much room for living expenses I have, and made a few adjustments and decided on a plan. Like all plans, the unknowns (reality) is the weakness. But like all plans, there is a skeleton core that if kept in tact will serve it’s master well. This skeleton will dance, and it has a little bit of impact resistance built in.
It will be much easier to save money this month, in theory. Oh, and I guess it has been many years since I have been broke. It isn’t a bad thing to go through once in a while as it’s own form of resetting priorities. Next month, I am planning on an allowance, $125 per eight days, for all things personal such as food, soap, gas, fidgets, widgets, and bobbles. If I stick to that, I will have $900 hundred saved, give or take. Two months of that, and in the third month, I get my next acquisition, the Dillon 550b full collection (includes plates, wiskets, bablots, and a few blinky things too). Then I can cut my savings in half, give or take, and coast on to my other wants and needs with a little and growing nest egg.
It is fun to be a little reckless once in a while. Whether financial or otherwise. If no ill events occur from the folly, it will be laughed about in time. Hmmm, sometimes even if there is a foul and some blood, given enough time. As I get in at the wall, I may be able to find outings to go on. Apparently and to my surprise, there is a LOT of local outdoor rock to climb. As well, fishing will be on the agenda. The hikes will be standard issue as well, though if gas becomes an issue at some point, I might just have to eat my words and take the city trails, scaredy cat girls be damned. If they do not like it they can move those heiny lumps a little faster or go home. It is cute to watch women hustle. hehehe I am old, but not that old. Though when I am out for a walk, I really am not interested so much.
I move pretty dang fast, I doubt if most women, even some of the joggers, can out pace me. I do a yard and a quarter or more a pace, eaten or extended a bit by grade, as fast as I can pump those legs. And they can pump. Maybe 5-7 mph, steady as a rock even in the hill trails. Though the more serious road slopes will put a dent in that velocity. I do not know where I got that pace, but I have it and use it anytime I am ground pounding. I can also move quiet as a cat, but that takes a lot more time if no real effort. I have not had a girlfriend I could not sneak up on, or even a guy friend, brother, or uncle. I still like saying “Boo” in the most simple way. No shout or such is needed. Sometimes, when they squeak in surprise, I look them right in the eyes and squeak back for that extra squeak. *roars* Who would have thunk a tank or ogre could do that. I do not do it to Mum anymore, I am not sure the old girl can take it. I trudge around like ogres are supposed to around her nowadays. She probably thinks I have lost my grace. Doh!
If the Q.O.D. wants coffee today, she will just have to accept homebrew French press or pay for it. I will be picking up Tiger Lily in a few hours. I really hope she had a swell time, made some more friends, strengthened some old ones, and perhaps made some plans for this summer. If she talked me into it, I would probably drive her to a drop off point, kayak and gear, and be waiting at the pick-up point. If she even paid half the gas, we could do all right. I might even try to fry up some chicken and make a little potato salad, or just cook up some meats while she is out and I am fishing, swimming, or maybe climbing trees manually a bit. Dang, this could be a great summer.
I need to talk to my neighbor. I did not do that this week, about going out on the boat. I do not know if he understands, but he seems to see the problem. Maybe he and his wife see more than I understand, maybe more than I know about myself. It is always a wonder. Though with his busy life and his many demands, I think he understands setbacks and delays. He is a super guy and his wife is truly superior through their, her, and his trials. I am sure it is not always perfect, but I am happy to have neighbors like them. I am not even made to feel bad about my lack of accomplishments, either directly or indirectly, in my dealings with them. They are of the saintly class, especially for their age group. And they have three children with one on the way. For me, it is like getting to look in on a birds nest, only as wide as heaven more. I guess it provides hope and incentives to find my own dove, and nest down for life.
It will be much easier to save money this month, in theory. Oh, and I guess it has been many years since I have been broke. It isn’t a bad thing to go through once in a while as it’s own form of resetting priorities. Next month, I am planning on an allowance, $125 per eight days, for all things personal such as food, soap, gas, fidgets, widgets, and bobbles. If I stick to that, I will have $900 hundred saved, give or take. Two months of that, and in the third month, I get my next acquisition, the Dillon 550b full collection (includes plates, wiskets, bablots, and a few blinky things too). Then I can cut my savings in half, give or take, and coast on to my other wants and needs with a little and growing nest egg.
It is fun to be a little reckless once in a while. Whether financial or otherwise. If no ill events occur from the folly, it will be laughed about in time. Hmmm, sometimes even if there is a foul and some blood, given enough time. As I get in at the wall, I may be able to find outings to go on. Apparently and to my surprise, there is a LOT of local outdoor rock to climb. As well, fishing will be on the agenda. The hikes will be standard issue as well, though if gas becomes an issue at some point, I might just have to eat my words and take the city trails, scaredy cat girls be damned. If they do not like it they can move those heiny lumps a little faster or go home. It is cute to watch women hustle. hehehe I am old, but not that old. Though when I am out for a walk, I really am not interested so much.
I move pretty dang fast, I doubt if most women, even some of the joggers, can out pace me. I do a yard and a quarter or more a pace, eaten or extended a bit by grade, as fast as I can pump those legs. And they can pump. Maybe 5-7 mph, steady as a rock even in the hill trails. Though the more serious road slopes will put a dent in that velocity. I do not know where I got that pace, but I have it and use it anytime I am ground pounding. I can also move quiet as a cat, but that takes a lot more time if no real effort. I have not had a girlfriend I could not sneak up on, or even a guy friend, brother, or uncle. I still like saying “Boo” in the most simple way. No shout or such is needed. Sometimes, when they squeak in surprise, I look them right in the eyes and squeak back for that extra squeak. *roars* Who would have thunk a tank or ogre could do that. I do not do it to Mum anymore, I am not sure the old girl can take it. I trudge around like ogres are supposed to around her nowadays. She probably thinks I have lost my grace. Doh!
If the Q.O.D. wants coffee today, she will just have to accept homebrew French press or pay for it. I will be picking up Tiger Lily in a few hours. I really hope she had a swell time, made some more friends, strengthened some old ones, and perhaps made some plans for this summer. If she talked me into it, I would probably drive her to a drop off point, kayak and gear, and be waiting at the pick-up point. If she even paid half the gas, we could do all right. I might even try to fry up some chicken and make a little potato salad, or just cook up some meats while she is out and I am fishing, swimming, or maybe climbing trees manually a bit. Dang, this could be a great summer.
I need to talk to my neighbor. I did not do that this week, about going out on the boat. I do not know if he understands, but he seems to see the problem. Maybe he and his wife see more than I understand, maybe more than I know about myself. It is always a wonder. Though with his busy life and his many demands, I think he understands setbacks and delays. He is a super guy and his wife is truly superior through their, her, and his trials. I am sure it is not always perfect, but I am happy to have neighbors like them. I am not even made to feel bad about my lack of accomplishments, either directly or indirectly, in my dealings with them. They are of the saintly class, especially for their age group. And they have three children with one on the way. For me, it is like getting to look in on a birds nest, only as wide as heaven more. I guess it provides hope and incentives to find my own dove, and nest down for life.
Pulling an all nighter.
I am attempting to reboot my system. I am wondering if my energy and waking difficulties can be mollified by staying awake a full day and a half. I have tried this before, and it seems to have been somewhat successful, though I cannot be sure. I am blogging it this time. I am thinking it will allow me to reset my days and nights.
I will fix some coffee shortly. I am about at the end of normal energy, so a boost is in order. It is too early for medicine, though even the booster among those has not been doing an effective job, or at least not as effective. I am aware but I am unable to mobilize to a greater degree, or wake up easily or on a schedule.
It is sort of strange to be doing this. It took me about 15 years to finally be able to sleep regularly. My last fiancée helped, somehow. Maybe it was her cycle of sleep, work, and active time that I just grabbed hold of somewhere in the back of my mind. Then again, maybe I just aged enough that my biology made a switch. Maybe her nagging helped. I am uncertain of the point. Now I cannot usually stay awake more than a few days, no matter how hard I have tried. Though a day and a half is still doable, without too much work. I do not usually break my sleep habit, but sometimes change is necessary.
At least this time I will have a record of the event and the following days. I will be able to see if my cycle resets, my mornings become easier, and my sleep becomes deeper. My goal is to be back in action enough to get up around 7:30 am regularly again, to go to church Sunday morning, and then hike either Sunday or Monday. I would also like to go in to the rock wall Monday and get that situated and begin my climbing career, though that is not as difficult, as it is an afternoon event.
I just looked at my finances. I have not been paying close enough attention. I am very nearly broke. I will have to pay a small fee for savings and checking going so low. I have about $20 in my pocket and a full tank of gas. I could probably rummage up a few more dollars, but that is it until the 1st. Actually only until next Friday, so it is not so bad, so long as no bills come in. Really, I should not be in this situation. I usually am better than this and I receive a decent income. I am doing many things and my mother ended up being a bit expensive this time. Still, for shame. Bah, it has been a fun month. Though next month, I will be saving like mad. I want a little bit of a safety net before (and after) my next big purchase probably in August, maybe September.
Hmmm, French press coffee is sounding mighty nice.
I will fix some coffee shortly. I am about at the end of normal energy, so a boost is in order. It is too early for medicine, though even the booster among those has not been doing an effective job, or at least not as effective. I am aware but I am unable to mobilize to a greater degree, or wake up easily or on a schedule.
It is sort of strange to be doing this. It took me about 15 years to finally be able to sleep regularly. My last fiancée helped, somehow. Maybe it was her cycle of sleep, work, and active time that I just grabbed hold of somewhere in the back of my mind. Then again, maybe I just aged enough that my biology made a switch. Maybe her nagging helped. I am uncertain of the point. Now I cannot usually stay awake more than a few days, no matter how hard I have tried. Though a day and a half is still doable, without too much work. I do not usually break my sleep habit, but sometimes change is necessary.
At least this time I will have a record of the event and the following days. I will be able to see if my cycle resets, my mornings become easier, and my sleep becomes deeper. My goal is to be back in action enough to get up around 7:30 am regularly again, to go to church Sunday morning, and then hike either Sunday or Monday. I would also like to go in to the rock wall Monday and get that situated and begin my climbing career, though that is not as difficult, as it is an afternoon event.
I just looked at my finances. I have not been paying close enough attention. I am very nearly broke. I will have to pay a small fee for savings and checking going so low. I have about $20 in my pocket and a full tank of gas. I could probably rummage up a few more dollars, but that is it until the 1st. Actually only until next Friday, so it is not so bad, so long as no bills come in. Really, I should not be in this situation. I usually am better than this and I receive a decent income. I am doing many things and my mother ended up being a bit expensive this time. Still, for shame. Bah, it has been a fun month. Though next month, I will be saving like mad. I want a little bit of a safety net before (and after) my next big purchase probably in August, maybe September.
Hmmm, French press coffee is sounding mighty nice.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Not bad for a wipe-out day.
The day got better as I went along. I did finish the bathroom and the kitchen. I am still neatening a few rooms, reading and re-reading the climbing and reloading books I have, practicing with knots, and just tinkering. Still not much energy, but much more than during previous dives.
It is storming out, to a minor degree. If it really lets loose, I will probably go out and watch it for a while. Thunderstorms are some of my favorite entertainment. I will just cup over my pipe should I decide to get a free shower. Fun, I tell you.
Supper was simple, but pleasant. Though there are now dishes to do. I had not realized I had not eaten until I got started with preparations. It was a non-meat casserole I prepared on the stove. I think I could have added fresh spinach leaves into that and it would have been very good. Maybe peas too or as an alternative. I am trying to see where I can add some vegetables in without complicating my processes. Fresh ground pepper, several cheeses, and pasta leaves the door fairly open for additions.
I might offer the Q.O.D. a portion of the last pan of enchiladas, though they may feed her before they send her home. She has slowly been making friends in that group, and after three years, I am sure it will be even more difficult for her to part ways with her play mates this year. Then again, she might be quite ready to go. It is difficult to say with her. I do not know if she will be too tired for a coffee, but she usually does not like to go straight home after these things. She actually hates going back to her cage, so she has put it and I have termed it.
I should call my mother tonight. I have not heard from her in the last few days, and I am curious if she is still doing as well. She was getting rain the last time I called, but they needed it, so she was happy. I do not know if we need it, but I am happy with it.
It is storming out, to a minor degree. If it really lets loose, I will probably go out and watch it for a while. Thunderstorms are some of my favorite entertainment. I will just cup over my pipe should I decide to get a free shower. Fun, I tell you.
Supper was simple, but pleasant. Though there are now dishes to do. I had not realized I had not eaten until I got started with preparations. It was a non-meat casserole I prepared on the stove. I think I could have added fresh spinach leaves into that and it would have been very good. Maybe peas too or as an alternative. I am trying to see where I can add some vegetables in without complicating my processes. Fresh ground pepper, several cheeses, and pasta leaves the door fairly open for additions.
I might offer the Q.O.D. a portion of the last pan of enchiladas, though they may feed her before they send her home. She has slowly been making friends in that group, and after three years, I am sure it will be even more difficult for her to part ways with her play mates this year. Then again, she might be quite ready to go. It is difficult to say with her. I do not know if she will be too tired for a coffee, but she usually does not like to go straight home after these things. She actually hates going back to her cage, so she has put it and I have termed it.
I should call my mother tonight. I have not heard from her in the last few days, and I am curious if she is still doing as well. She was getting rain the last time I called, but they needed it, so she was happy. I do not know if we need it, but I am happy with it.
Dark Days, Darker Knights
It seems I am at my low ebb. I have not been able to get things going for three days. I have missed church. I have not be able to get up at the time the alarm(s) go off. Many of my plans are failing. And at times, I have been a bit glum, nothing outright disastrous though I think it brings back some of what gets me hated online. People do not want to read the depths of doom. They do not want to think things are irreparable, they like to believe in a hope here, they want to believe they have a chance. Well, they are irreparable and you do not have a chance. Though going into detail really does not help, either. So, I stopped to think about it today. I am just temporarily sunk. Amazingly, I am still fashionably functional. I still get a few things done. And, really, I am doing a ton more than dragging my butt from bed to the computer chair for a few hours at a time before needing, craving, suckling on sleep again like a bowery bum on the last cigarette on the planet, only to find it is not a cigarette and neither of us finding satisfaction no matter how much we try to draw from our perspective succulent.
So, what to do. Well, not much. I will just keep struggling until I can get my legs under me again. It is interesting to see this thing from the position the medications allow. It really is bigger than I am, and swallows me whole just as a whale might. After which, I have about as much power to control my direction and depth as would be expected, on the grander scale. At least now I have a little chemical torch in the dark wet space and can prepare a bit for the dives, brace for the turns, keep from being mentally lost in the fog of darkness, and keep from being so nauseous on the trip. I guess I have to admit, beyond a doubt, I am a cripple. If you saw me, especially now, you too would have a very hard time believing what I just wrote. Especially given that I am the author as well. On the upside, I will be seeing my doctor in a week and a half and will have more information for him. Maybe he knows and realizes it is not reparable, I have pondered that. Doctors do not always truth if they believe no good will come of it. He is a medical doctor, I do not believe in psychiatrists. They were trying voodoo on me and I kicked their sorry butt’s out of my house. Medical doctors have been a hair better, at least when they tossed away the voodoo hoodoo from the reports and started working with me on real solutions.
I did get some more cleaning done. I finished the tougher parts of the bathroom (for me). The shower really needed cleaned and the toilet got a good working over. As well, the floor in the area was well cleaned. My mother showed me that the double shower curtains I use can be just put in the wash. It does work. I still have to put them back up, and lay another toilet rug down. I like have something warm and fuzzy under my toots whilst I toot. Something to read does not hurt either. More information than you need, but while I was at it… Oh, I got a little more done in the kitchen. I have a few things I would like to get done today, since I am pretty much housebound it seems. Well, it is an improvement, both in health and in house.
I woke up last night, lightly lathered in sweat. My legs and feet where “on fire” even though they were cold to the touch and blanketed. Putting them out in the 68 F air did not help enough, though it did feel better. I also had a nail in the head splitting headache. It was 2:44 am. I decided to check my vitals and glucose, 143/93, pulse 87, glucose 104. I think (know) I have three different reasons for night problems. I know only what one of them is. It may have been a minor part of last night, but not the major part. My bed would have been soaked, my muscles tense to the point of being sore, I have even hurt myself in those dreams, tore up my foot a bit just by muscle tension last time. Those have been modified with a little help from the VA, they are less frequent and less severe. I was never in combat. I was peace time. I was, for all it matters, a stateside cook or something. I cannot explain those dreams, daymares, or feelings. Blast it, I do not always understand this stupid life I have. But the therapist who works with this junk would not even see me until I had tested out for it, with several different forms of testing. So, I have it, we just do not know why. Yea, I keep going over this. Have you ever had a sore tooth, and your tongue flicks to it every time it acts up or hurts? You know it hurts more when you flick it with your tongue, but you just cannot stop that tongue? Yea, so be quiet, I do not like it either. And, on a scale of 1 to 10, I will bet your unhappiness rates at a 1. Mine does not fit that stinking chart. On the upside, should I ever need to release that rage, I will shatter stupid evil mortals who stand before me like glass. Even containing it, I have to be careful with fools. I dream of such things you would not want to see. I feel such things that you could not tolerate. I am war. RAGEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
It takes a lot of juice just keeping that in my mortal frame, sometimes. Just knowing it is there is as frightening as you have a couple of cocked and locked machine guns sitting around in your house. The machine is ready, anybody could trigger it, few could control it. Oddly, a woman’s soothing voice does it for me. Or, at least would keep her out of the target acquisition line up unless the beast knew her for a traitor or death dealer. It is not stupid.
Damn, I should not talk about this junk. I probably should erase that, but. No, I have tried not to hide, I will not hide here. Neither my ideas, happiness, pains, life, or feelings. I have been as honest as I can, even if just in the moment, here. Yea, I usually regret it. Tough. And personally, I do not care what you think, believe, or “feel” about this. You want to call me a liar, do it to my face. I will give you my address.
Oh, I pick up the Obfussticator tomorrow. I am sure she will be about as happy to be home as I will be to have her home. Yes, a few more weeks in the wild for that feral cat and everybody would probably be happier. I usually try to spend some money on her outings each year. I have not so far, but I would like to plan a trip for late summer or early fall for camping, her canoeing, and me some fishing and swimming. First, I know she loves and needs her outings like a flower needs sunshine. Second, I know I like her better when she gets back, she is a happier woman. And third, not one single other person on this planet loves her and helps her in her ways. I guess I am surrogate family. That is what and all I have, so I understand. She is still a nag.
So, what to do. Well, not much. I will just keep struggling until I can get my legs under me again. It is interesting to see this thing from the position the medications allow. It really is bigger than I am, and swallows me whole just as a whale might. After which, I have about as much power to control my direction and depth as would be expected, on the grander scale. At least now I have a little chemical torch in the dark wet space and can prepare a bit for the dives, brace for the turns, keep from being mentally lost in the fog of darkness, and keep from being so nauseous on the trip. I guess I have to admit, beyond a doubt, I am a cripple. If you saw me, especially now, you too would have a very hard time believing what I just wrote. Especially given that I am the author as well. On the upside, I will be seeing my doctor in a week and a half and will have more information for him. Maybe he knows and realizes it is not reparable, I have pondered that. Doctors do not always truth if they believe no good will come of it. He is a medical doctor, I do not believe in psychiatrists. They were trying voodoo on me and I kicked their sorry butt’s out of my house. Medical doctors have been a hair better, at least when they tossed away the voodoo hoodoo from the reports and started working with me on real solutions.
I did get some more cleaning done. I finished the tougher parts of the bathroom (for me). The shower really needed cleaned and the toilet got a good working over. As well, the floor in the area was well cleaned. My mother showed me that the double shower curtains I use can be just put in the wash. It does work. I still have to put them back up, and lay another toilet rug down. I like have something warm and fuzzy under my toots whilst I toot. Something to read does not hurt either. More information than you need, but while I was at it… Oh, I got a little more done in the kitchen. I have a few things I would like to get done today, since I am pretty much housebound it seems. Well, it is an improvement, both in health and in house.
I woke up last night, lightly lathered in sweat. My legs and feet where “on fire” even though they were cold to the touch and blanketed. Putting them out in the 68 F air did not help enough, though it did feel better. I also had a nail in the head splitting headache. It was 2:44 am. I decided to check my vitals and glucose, 143/93, pulse 87, glucose 104. I think (know) I have three different reasons for night problems. I know only what one of them is. It may have been a minor part of last night, but not the major part. My bed would have been soaked, my muscles tense to the point of being sore, I have even hurt myself in those dreams, tore up my foot a bit just by muscle tension last time. Those have been modified with a little help from the VA, they are less frequent and less severe. I was never in combat. I was peace time. I was, for all it matters, a stateside cook or something. I cannot explain those dreams, daymares, or feelings. Blast it, I do not always understand this stupid life I have. But the therapist who works with this junk would not even see me until I had tested out for it, with several different forms of testing. So, I have it, we just do not know why. Yea, I keep going over this. Have you ever had a sore tooth, and your tongue flicks to it every time it acts up or hurts? You know it hurts more when you flick it with your tongue, but you just cannot stop that tongue? Yea, so be quiet, I do not like it either. And, on a scale of 1 to 10, I will bet your unhappiness rates at a 1. Mine does not fit that stinking chart. On the upside, should I ever need to release that rage, I will shatter stupid evil mortals who stand before me like glass. Even containing it, I have to be careful with fools. I dream of such things you would not want to see. I feel such things that you could not tolerate. I am war. RAGEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
It takes a lot of juice just keeping that in my mortal frame, sometimes. Just knowing it is there is as frightening as you have a couple of cocked and locked machine guns sitting around in your house. The machine is ready, anybody could trigger it, few could control it. Oddly, a woman’s soothing voice does it for me. Or, at least would keep her out of the target acquisition line up unless the beast knew her for a traitor or death dealer. It is not stupid.
Damn, I should not talk about this junk. I probably should erase that, but. No, I have tried not to hide, I will not hide here. Neither my ideas, happiness, pains, life, or feelings. I have been as honest as I can, even if just in the moment, here. Yea, I usually regret it. Tough. And personally, I do not care what you think, believe, or “feel” about this. You want to call me a liar, do it to my face. I will give you my address.
Oh, I pick up the Obfussticator tomorrow. I am sure she will be about as happy to be home as I will be to have her home. Yes, a few more weeks in the wild for that feral cat and everybody would probably be happier. I usually try to spend some money on her outings each year. I have not so far, but I would like to plan a trip for late summer or early fall for camping, her canoeing, and me some fishing and swimming. First, I know she loves and needs her outings like a flower needs sunshine. Second, I know I like her better when she gets back, she is a happier woman. And third, not one single other person on this planet loves her and helps her in her ways. I guess I am surrogate family. That is what and all I have, so I understand. She is still a nag.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Well, a few things scratched off the list.
I did not make it to church today. I headed that way, but traffic was both heavy and slow, my usual parking area was full, and before I could get to another area, I was past the start time. I just do not enter church (or school) late. Every time I go, someone comes in late. And, just maybe, that is correct. All I can say is that I will not do that.
While I was out, when returning to the cave, I decided to pick up a five gallon bucket and a filet knife. I went ahead and purchased three buckets, as I am going to be seeing if I can buy wheel weights from local tire shops. I have heard that a bucket to exchange for the one full of weights and $15 dollars could very well get me in all the lead I need for producing my own bullets (and some fishing weights and weighted hooks as well). So, several tasks done. It was raining so I decided not to go fishing this evening.
I am still pretty tired today. I had to nap from 4:00 to 6:00 pm. I did get a little cleaning done, and hope to do a bit more. I also cooked the rice and stored it. I left a few spoonfuls in the pan, added beans, several of my favored spices, and a little cheese. It made for a good meal. It is nothing fancy, for certain, but three of those little tacos did hit the spot. I really do not even feel hungry in spite of the small meal and only a tuna sandwich for lunch. I am thawing some beef, a couple of rib-eyes and a pound of hamburger. But that will just have to wait, as I am trying to go without meat on Fridays. It is an old tradition, one that does not seem to be in play so much these days. But I like it. For a heavy meat eater it is a sacrifice.
My last shipment of gear for the month arrived today. Several pair of swimming trunks, rock climbing shoes, some hiking Smart-Wool socks, and a wool sweater at too low of a price to pass up. I have noted that as I search for gear, I have started becoming much better at seeing when a very good sale is on compared to when a bluff is being played. The difference between a sale on street prices and a sale on msrp is huge, and laughable now. The shoes are definitely not the most comfortable things I have worn. I am told that this is as it should be. They will stretch a bit, and I will have to do my part and deal with it. So, I am wearing them from time to time. Oh, I also purchased some chalk and a chalk bag. These climbing pieces will carry into tree climbing, or at least according to the majority of what I am hearing and reading. And this is the minimal practical gear for the rock wall.
Next month, I will be holding onto every nickel in my inventory. I will probably pay for a bus pass so as to avoid gas and parking costs as much as possible. Now that I am more active, I can even take it to church. Before, I had difficulties with this as I had no idea what to do for the hour and some between when the last bus that would allow me to be on time to church dropped me at the curb and when the actual church service started. I feel confident enough that I will not become too exhausted that I will feel the need to rush home, and more, I think I could enjoy walking around downtown. Window shopping all the things I can never have and maybe a few I can. Perhaps I could go to some of the sporting goods stores and hear whoppers, check out gear, and maybe in time describe some of my exploits. Who knows, I might even find a climbing partner, group, or association. Life has a lot of surprises for me when I put on my boots and socialize a touch. Well, that and I enjoy people who enjoy what they do, or exploring, are in the know, or even just interested in chatting a bit. I think, too, as I am shaping up and becoming active, I am less intimidated by crowds. The crowds on the bus can be a snarly nasty bunch, though it is a random group every time. Some surprises I would just rather do without. Still, I do need to start counting my coin much more closely and I think I am up to the task.
While I was out, when returning to the cave, I decided to pick up a five gallon bucket and a filet knife. I went ahead and purchased three buckets, as I am going to be seeing if I can buy wheel weights from local tire shops. I have heard that a bucket to exchange for the one full of weights and $15 dollars could very well get me in all the lead I need for producing my own bullets (and some fishing weights and weighted hooks as well). So, several tasks done. It was raining so I decided not to go fishing this evening.
I am still pretty tired today. I had to nap from 4:00 to 6:00 pm. I did get a little cleaning done, and hope to do a bit more. I also cooked the rice and stored it. I left a few spoonfuls in the pan, added beans, several of my favored spices, and a little cheese. It made for a good meal. It is nothing fancy, for certain, but three of those little tacos did hit the spot. I really do not even feel hungry in spite of the small meal and only a tuna sandwich for lunch. I am thawing some beef, a couple of rib-eyes and a pound of hamburger. But that will just have to wait, as I am trying to go without meat on Fridays. It is an old tradition, one that does not seem to be in play so much these days. But I like it. For a heavy meat eater it is a sacrifice.
My last shipment of gear for the month arrived today. Several pair of swimming trunks, rock climbing shoes, some hiking Smart-Wool socks, and a wool sweater at too low of a price to pass up. I have noted that as I search for gear, I have started becoming much better at seeing when a very good sale is on compared to when a bluff is being played. The difference between a sale on street prices and a sale on msrp is huge, and laughable now. The shoes are definitely not the most comfortable things I have worn. I am told that this is as it should be. They will stretch a bit, and I will have to do my part and deal with it. So, I am wearing them from time to time. Oh, I also purchased some chalk and a chalk bag. These climbing pieces will carry into tree climbing, or at least according to the majority of what I am hearing and reading. And this is the minimal practical gear for the rock wall.
Next month, I will be holding onto every nickel in my inventory. I will probably pay for a bus pass so as to avoid gas and parking costs as much as possible. Now that I am more active, I can even take it to church. Before, I had difficulties with this as I had no idea what to do for the hour and some between when the last bus that would allow me to be on time to church dropped me at the curb and when the actual church service started. I feel confident enough that I will not become too exhausted that I will feel the need to rush home, and more, I think I could enjoy walking around downtown. Window shopping all the things I can never have and maybe a few I can. Perhaps I could go to some of the sporting goods stores and hear whoppers, check out gear, and maybe in time describe some of my exploits. Who knows, I might even find a climbing partner, group, or association. Life has a lot of surprises for me when I put on my boots and socialize a touch. Well, that and I enjoy people who enjoy what they do, or exploring, are in the know, or even just interested in chatting a bit. I think, too, as I am shaping up and becoming active, I am less intimidated by crowds. The crowds on the bus can be a snarly nasty bunch, though it is a random group every time. Some surprises I would just rather do without. Still, I do need to start counting my coin much more closely and I think I am up to the task.
Gee, being a rusty iron can be rough.
I was able to wake up this morning, but still only after the second snooze bar push on the reserve alarm clock, the primary having been snoozed through from 7:30 to 8:00 am then shut off and the primary going off at 8:30 am. And I am sluggish. I may be up in time for church. And, I might be able to go target shooting. I ended up not doing so the other day. I helped my landlord fix the garage door which took up the time I would have otherwise used for target practice. It is more than sluggish, I am wiped out right now. And, again, I have a headache though more minor than the one I had yesterday.
Yesterday saw a little house cleaning, some help with the garage door, and little else. Though the beer was good, and fun. I do that so rarely, and almost never that much. Today to get to church, maybe to the range, and get some more housecleaning would be good. I seem to be all out of something. Like I said though, the rest of the week on light duty and begin again on Monday. Probably a hike on some other path, or some off path exploring at the path I have been using. Monday or Tuesday I should get in and be tested for the rock climbing wall. Oh, I forgot to get a fish pail and filet knife. Eventually it will come together.
It is difficult to believe how little, over a two week period, can wipe me out. I can do quite a lot on a single day, and several things over several days, but medium duty over a two week period and one might think I had climbed Mount Everest or something. Maybe everyone is that way, others just push through that. Maybe as I keep pushing, I will get better. I am just totally unsure at this point and at my age. I sure do not know how I did it in my youth. I am thinking or sort of remembering that I brute force pushed through and became exceptionally fit, but was perpetually exhausted. I only kept things going on a type of faith, being that fit, and having mentors and brothers. When that faith was crushed by some things that went on then, I fell and have not been able to recover. And those I had depended on where no longer there, and were a part of the crush, so could not even be pondered as any good their memory could have provided carried with it too much baggage. It is a harsh thing to be naked and alone in such times, even for a brute.
This renaissance of life I am seemingly in, weak as even it is, is not a recovery. It is rocket packs, and even these seem to be flagging. So, I am thinking it is me. If not a bad apple, an anomalous one. Or maybe I was just more prone to these things because of social factors. I can see that if my body is able, it does comply with my will. It is so frustrating because other than some sort of energy disconnect, my body, mind, and will are very potent. The energy is there, somehow and somewhere. As I said, my body and will do not, maybe cannot, access it, and so my body fails to comply with my wants, even to my needs. What is really odd is that my body has not “decayed” more than it has. For the little college I have taken and the very little physical exercise I get, it is still potent. I just do not understand.
I have been drinking only water for a bit now, that and milk, with tea or coffee a few times a week at most. I finally drank the last of the soda I purchased months ago a few days ago. If I restock soda, it will be for guests. I have been eating better, though I suppose I should figure out how to toss some vegetables into my meats and now, beans and rice, other than potatoes. Something green, red, orange, yellow, or other odd color for food, in my opinion. If I do not have to fix them separately, I should be ok with it. I will be cooking up some rice to mix with the beans today. I should also restock some of my spices. I have about half of them, or 20 some, restocked now. This time, I am writing the dates on the “extra” bags, so I will be able to discard the delicate herbs and spices over a year old, hot stuff sooner as it’s strength diminishes very fast. Potency for all drains quickly, but being double air-tight sealed in their individual baggies and then in a rubber gasket pickling metal clasp type of jar, I think most will last that long. But if the spice in the shakers has not been used up by six months, it will be replaced. I will have to wait on the spices, actually. I have too little money left to spend much there right now, especially since I buy them in such a way that I really do not know how much it will be at the register. I should get a list ready, something productive to do while I “recover”. Weird, but talking about food is not making me hungry. Maybe an egg and a few pieces of bacon might be good though. Add a slice of toast and I might enjoy in spite of not being hungry. Well, scratch that. I fast an hour before mass and there is too little time to fix the food.
I have noticed something. As I try to keep my body active, thus tired, my mind does not get lost in the questions which the title of this blog indicates. Oh, there are still a few knocks on “that” door. And I certainly have my pet notions which I allow random access. But most do not, cannot it seems, ramble through my mind unhindered. Nor are their poisons, joys, pleasures, or pains overwhelming, neither from the pets nor from the allowed entrants. At least this I do understand, and appreciate.
Hey, someone out there give me a push start or something, will you? *smile* Nah, you would probably just get a hernia or something and I still would be immobile. *laughs*
Yesterday saw a little house cleaning, some help with the garage door, and little else. Though the beer was good, and fun. I do that so rarely, and almost never that much. Today to get to church, maybe to the range, and get some more housecleaning would be good. I seem to be all out of something. Like I said though, the rest of the week on light duty and begin again on Monday. Probably a hike on some other path, or some off path exploring at the path I have been using. Monday or Tuesday I should get in and be tested for the rock climbing wall. Oh, I forgot to get a fish pail and filet knife. Eventually it will come together.
It is difficult to believe how little, over a two week period, can wipe me out. I can do quite a lot on a single day, and several things over several days, but medium duty over a two week period and one might think I had climbed Mount Everest or something. Maybe everyone is that way, others just push through that. Maybe as I keep pushing, I will get better. I am just totally unsure at this point and at my age. I sure do not know how I did it in my youth. I am thinking or sort of remembering that I brute force pushed through and became exceptionally fit, but was perpetually exhausted. I only kept things going on a type of faith, being that fit, and having mentors and brothers. When that faith was crushed by some things that went on then, I fell and have not been able to recover. And those I had depended on where no longer there, and were a part of the crush, so could not even be pondered as any good their memory could have provided carried with it too much baggage. It is a harsh thing to be naked and alone in such times, even for a brute.
This renaissance of life I am seemingly in, weak as even it is, is not a recovery. It is rocket packs, and even these seem to be flagging. So, I am thinking it is me. If not a bad apple, an anomalous one. Or maybe I was just more prone to these things because of social factors. I can see that if my body is able, it does comply with my will. It is so frustrating because other than some sort of energy disconnect, my body, mind, and will are very potent. The energy is there, somehow and somewhere. As I said, my body and will do not, maybe cannot, access it, and so my body fails to comply with my wants, even to my needs. What is really odd is that my body has not “decayed” more than it has. For the little college I have taken and the very little physical exercise I get, it is still potent. I just do not understand.
I have been drinking only water for a bit now, that and milk, with tea or coffee a few times a week at most. I finally drank the last of the soda I purchased months ago a few days ago. If I restock soda, it will be for guests. I have been eating better, though I suppose I should figure out how to toss some vegetables into my meats and now, beans and rice, other than potatoes. Something green, red, orange, yellow, or other odd color for food, in my opinion. If I do not have to fix them separately, I should be ok with it. I will be cooking up some rice to mix with the beans today. I should also restock some of my spices. I have about half of them, or 20 some, restocked now. This time, I am writing the dates on the “extra” bags, so I will be able to discard the delicate herbs and spices over a year old, hot stuff sooner as it’s strength diminishes very fast. Potency for all drains quickly, but being double air-tight sealed in their individual baggies and then in a rubber gasket pickling metal clasp type of jar, I think most will last that long. But if the spice in the shakers has not been used up by six months, it will be replaced. I will have to wait on the spices, actually. I have too little money left to spend much there right now, especially since I buy them in such a way that I really do not know how much it will be at the register. I should get a list ready, something productive to do while I “recover”. Weird, but talking about food is not making me hungry. Maybe an egg and a few pieces of bacon might be good though. Add a slice of toast and I might enjoy in spite of not being hungry. Well, scratch that. I fast an hour before mass and there is too little time to fix the food.
I have noticed something. As I try to keep my body active, thus tired, my mind does not get lost in the questions which the title of this blog indicates. Oh, there are still a few knocks on “that” door. And I certainly have my pet notions which I allow random access. But most do not, cannot it seems, ramble through my mind unhindered. Nor are their poisons, joys, pleasures, or pains overwhelming, neither from the pets nor from the allowed entrants. At least this I do understand, and appreciate.
Hey, someone out there give me a push start or something, will you? *smile* Nah, you would probably just get a hernia or something and I still would be immobile. *laughs*
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Bloggers are fools.
I decided on a few beers tonight. Four beers so far, though technically only two (I have big glasses, I hate glasses that do not fit my hand and size). I am listening to the Catholic radio station on my emergency/camping radio. I am trying to figure out how long a minute of cranking really lasts. I probably will check out the solar capacity next time I go fishing. It is actually impressive so far. I cranked for a minute a month or more ago, and it is still working.
It has been quite some time since I had a beer, here at the house, or even out on the town. My favorite place to drink out offers about, well, I do not know, but many beers. They have bottles of European, Asian, and other beer as well as some extremely fine tap beers. I thought about trying them all, and may in time, but never in one night. Even with my capacity, there are time and money limits. I prefer Budweiser, some German beer I never can remember the name of, and most Belgian beers of the monastic style (it is a very interesting brewing process). The Bud and the German beer are pure and purer pilsners, respectively. The Belgian beers are creamy, think a fine latte, or better, a French pressed fresh ground coffee. Or, that is how I see and understand. Nummy.
Well, the garage is back in play. I think I impressed my landlord. What I can do and actually do surprised him. He probably wonders why I am not making some serious money or doing something serious. He probably, though, thinks I am apathetic. What he does not and probably cannot know, is that my apparent apathy is a permanent numbness to the world. Some call it trauma. I have called it accidental transcendentalism. I suggested that to my doctor, a Hindu Indian. I thought he would lift his chin and give a belly laugh. He did not. He thought about it a second, then gave me a side glance, then looked straight at me and said “I think you hit that nail on the head”. Well, I believe it anyway. I think there is only so much a human can experience, know, and do before the flesh means nothing.
Bah, pussy psychology. I believe psychology and modern academia share an insanity that is even worse than mine. They do not care that they do not know. Yet, they believe somehow that they are correct, in spite of denying faith. In other words, they are dead to wisdom. After a recent blessing, I may have to concede that they are not evil in intent even if evil in their ends. What to do with that? I suppose, as the woman I know who has this affliction, prayer. Though, I cannot say I would not send them to nations which abide by their fruits, North Korea, as is, would be the main repatriation station.
I should also say, there are many who think I do not see the sin before me. There are those who think I do not understand. There are those who think being outside of my flesh renders me blind. They just do not understand, yet, what I am, what I know, and what I see. I will not open their minds, most cannot take it. What I see is that some of them do not even see the depth of sin which surrounds them, blinded by their own small parts of it. Neither do they see their grace, should they be humbled by their sin. I will say this once, I do see their sin and grace. It is only those who have no humility whom I see as lost, even in these, I see the edges whereby their sin could be collected, should their fall into eventual humility be caught in the correct collection plate, and with the other gifts, be offered to He who accepts even these, they can yet live.
Ok, I have fed you vampires enough for the night. It is time to find peace, if I can, and as I can even know in what remains of my life, or existence, or whatever it is I seem to remain in. Oh, by the way, my radio is still functioning quite well. Wow, a minute of cranking a month ago stored quite well.
It has been quite some time since I had a beer, here at the house, or even out on the town. My favorite place to drink out offers about, well, I do not know, but many beers. They have bottles of European, Asian, and other beer as well as some extremely fine tap beers. I thought about trying them all, and may in time, but never in one night. Even with my capacity, there are time and money limits. I prefer Budweiser, some German beer I never can remember the name of, and most Belgian beers of the monastic style (it is a very interesting brewing process). The Bud and the German beer are pure and purer pilsners, respectively. The Belgian beers are creamy, think a fine latte, or better, a French pressed fresh ground coffee. Or, that is how I see and understand. Nummy.
Well, the garage is back in play. I think I impressed my landlord. What I can do and actually do surprised him. He probably wonders why I am not making some serious money or doing something serious. He probably, though, thinks I am apathetic. What he does not and probably cannot know, is that my apparent apathy is a permanent numbness to the world. Some call it trauma. I have called it accidental transcendentalism. I suggested that to my doctor, a Hindu Indian. I thought he would lift his chin and give a belly laugh. He did not. He thought about it a second, then gave me a side glance, then looked straight at me and said “I think you hit that nail on the head”. Well, I believe it anyway. I think there is only so much a human can experience, know, and do before the flesh means nothing.
Bah, pussy psychology. I believe psychology and modern academia share an insanity that is even worse than mine. They do not care that they do not know. Yet, they believe somehow that they are correct, in spite of denying faith. In other words, they are dead to wisdom. After a recent blessing, I may have to concede that they are not evil in intent even if evil in their ends. What to do with that? I suppose, as the woman I know who has this affliction, prayer. Though, I cannot say I would not send them to nations which abide by their fruits, North Korea, as is, would be the main repatriation station.
I should also say, there are many who think I do not see the sin before me. There are those who think I do not understand. There are those who think being outside of my flesh renders me blind. They just do not understand, yet, what I am, what I know, and what I see. I will not open their minds, most cannot take it. What I see is that some of them do not even see the depth of sin which surrounds them, blinded by their own small parts of it. Neither do they see their grace, should they be humbled by their sin. I will say this once, I do see their sin and grace. It is only those who have no humility whom I see as lost, even in these, I see the edges whereby their sin could be collected, should their fall into eventual humility be caught in the correct collection plate, and with the other gifts, be offered to He who accepts even these, they can yet live.
Ok, I have fed you vampires enough for the night. It is time to find peace, if I can, and as I can even know in what remains of my life, or existence, or whatever it is I seem to remain in. Oh, by the way, my radio is still functioning quite well. Wow, a minute of cranking a month ago stored quite well.
Your posts won't be automatically entered.
Hey, I thought I should give you all a heads up. Someone posted an ad, and I do not truck such, at all. If they want an add AND I have tried and like their goods AND then they pay me, you bet. I would work something out. Otherwise, keep that garbage off my virtual lawn.
I figured I would go this way, since I usually check my email and blog several times a day. And personally, I hate the word verification and it does not necessarily really help with this. So, forgive the inconvenience, or do not, doesn't confront me none as long as I get my money next payday. But know that is the rule of this land henceforth.
Yours,
DOOM
*growls*
I figured I would go this way, since I usually check my email and blog several times a day. And personally, I hate the word verification and it does not necessarily really help with this. So, forgive the inconvenience, or do not, doesn't confront me none as long as I get my money next payday. But know that is the rule of this land henceforth.
Yours,
DOOM
*growls*
Another day, a thnner wallet? Probably.
I woke up late again. I really struggled to wake up enough to get going but just could not do it, even after giving myself a couple extra hours to sleep after being up late. My landlord called, but I did not hear that. When he rang the bell, twice, I heard that and only got up to check who it was. He had already gone out to the garage, as I later learned. Anyway, I tossed on some shorts and a t-shirt and headed out. He was indeed working on the garage door. And, I see two mistakes I made. First, spring size. Yeah, I sort of guessed that but thought it might work anyway. Second, there was a wire that should have been attached that I had missed. He did thank me for trying, and asked if I would be around if he needs some help. Of course, especially since I failed to just get it done.
Ok, so I have never worked on such a device before. You see, there are extreme disadvantages to not having a dad around who not only does these things and gets your help and teaches. Mothers are good for boys until about 5-8 years of age, I do not know about girls. Then it should be dad who starts taking over. I actually do ok, mechanically, but only because I have some natural aptitude for that, and I have dumb strength.
I have a humdinger of a headache as I wake up. I probably should take it easy for the rest of this week. If my neighbor wants to go fishing, I will do that. And I would still like to try to make it to church these next few days. Other than that, I think I had better just stay home, drink plenty of water, and relax, or at least light duty if I do things. I pushed it hard at my mother’s place, and I pushed it hard when I got back. I have stretched my awake hours and gone out into very hot temperatures. I must have been ok to some degree though as my calves no longer hurt even after yesterdays jaunt, work in the garage (I did not have a ladder, so I used two of my truck stands, extended, to stand on while mucking with the mechanisms), and running around late getting the fish tank and then the water.
This winter I plan to learn cross country skiing. I have heard it is the best method of winter mobility, over snowshoes. In almost any snow, you really cannot just trudge through. As well, with my weight and a full pack weight, I have not found a snow shoe that realistically supports that combination. Yet with skis, there are quite a few lengths and widths which will more surely cover the weight (mass to you yahoos). I am hoping to be in good enough shape to comfortably begin weight training in the winter months too. It would be nice to get up to over double my weight again, but at my age, 400 pounds is probably more reasonable. At least I already have a half dozen (3 regular and assorted special) or more different bars, an excellent bench, dumbbells, this and that, and well over half a ton of straight weights, so no extra expense there. Though it would be good to have a weight lifting partner.
I did not check my weight this morning, but I must say, I am losing some of my belly. I think with the foods I am eating, along with the simple walks, getting out in the sun and heat, fishing, and such, I should really be getting up to speed for some serious out-of-door long term fun. I can do incredible things, if the short term, as is. At least according to my thinking and some people who have been with me at times. I just wonder what I can get up to doing again. Humans are amazing if they do not limit themselves; fear the pain, discomfort, and time expense of conditioning; and have and use a flexible brain. Of course, I have to compare to when I was 19 and I will never ever be there again. That was a whole other world. Then again, I would not like that man/boy if I met him now. I really do despise cocky punks, even if they have earned some of it.
Hmm, what to do though. I might have to get out the .22 rifle and see if the longer range is open. It is sighted in to 30 yards, but I would like to get that to 50 yards. Then I need to practice a bit and see where it hits at 25, 75, and maybe even 100 yards. It is fun to shoot anyway, so it is not like this is work. And, I have several thousand rounds in 500 round lots of various makes as I try to determine the most accurate for my rifle and pistol. Might have too look around for a 5 gallon bucket first though, so that if fishing becomes an interest, I can do that too. Dang, that means a filet knife as well. See what I mean about expenses compounding on anything one might want to do? Just a few dollars here and a dozen there, oh and that and this, and over there, it happens fast and often until the wallet is so hungry it bites the hand that fed it. Well, it is summer and I am finally able. I guess it is just the price of being more functional.
Ok, so I have never worked on such a device before. You see, there are extreme disadvantages to not having a dad around who not only does these things and gets your help and teaches. Mothers are good for boys until about 5-8 years of age, I do not know about girls. Then it should be dad who starts taking over. I actually do ok, mechanically, but only because I have some natural aptitude for that, and I have dumb strength.
I have a humdinger of a headache as I wake up. I probably should take it easy for the rest of this week. If my neighbor wants to go fishing, I will do that. And I would still like to try to make it to church these next few days. Other than that, I think I had better just stay home, drink plenty of water, and relax, or at least light duty if I do things. I pushed it hard at my mother’s place, and I pushed it hard when I got back. I have stretched my awake hours and gone out into very hot temperatures. I must have been ok to some degree though as my calves no longer hurt even after yesterdays jaunt, work in the garage (I did not have a ladder, so I used two of my truck stands, extended, to stand on while mucking with the mechanisms), and running around late getting the fish tank and then the water.
This winter I plan to learn cross country skiing. I have heard it is the best method of winter mobility, over snowshoes. In almost any snow, you really cannot just trudge through. As well, with my weight and a full pack weight, I have not found a snow shoe that realistically supports that combination. Yet with skis, there are quite a few lengths and widths which will more surely cover the weight (mass to you yahoos). I am hoping to be in good enough shape to comfortably begin weight training in the winter months too. It would be nice to get up to over double my weight again, but at my age, 400 pounds is probably more reasonable. At least I already have a half dozen (3 regular and assorted special) or more different bars, an excellent bench, dumbbells, this and that, and well over half a ton of straight weights, so no extra expense there. Though it would be good to have a weight lifting partner.
I did not check my weight this morning, but I must say, I am losing some of my belly. I think with the foods I am eating, along with the simple walks, getting out in the sun and heat, fishing, and such, I should really be getting up to speed for some serious out-of-door long term fun. I can do incredible things, if the short term, as is. At least according to my thinking and some people who have been with me at times. I just wonder what I can get up to doing again. Humans are amazing if they do not limit themselves; fear the pain, discomfort, and time expense of conditioning; and have and use a flexible brain. Of course, I have to compare to when I was 19 and I will never ever be there again. That was a whole other world. Then again, I would not like that man/boy if I met him now. I really do despise cocky punks, even if they have earned some of it.
Hmm, what to do though. I might have to get out the .22 rifle and see if the longer range is open. It is sighted in to 30 yards, but I would like to get that to 50 yards. Then I need to practice a bit and see where it hits at 25, 75, and maybe even 100 yards. It is fun to shoot anyway, so it is not like this is work. And, I have several thousand rounds in 500 round lots of various makes as I try to determine the most accurate for my rifle and pistol. Might have too look around for a 5 gallon bucket first though, so that if fishing becomes an interest, I can do that too. Dang, that means a filet knife as well. See what I mean about expenses compounding on anything one might want to do? Just a few dollars here and a dozen there, oh and that and this, and over there, it happens fast and often until the wallet is so hungry it bites the hand that fed it. Well, it is summer and I am finally able. I guess it is just the price of being more functional.
I will be so ready to sleep.
Who would have guessed? As I was cleaning the tank, I managed to set it just right so that it cracked. I am low on money, tired, and so this. Apparently it says this in the rule book of life somewhere. On the upside, I not only could but I did manage this. I went ahead and bought the tank, purchased some water (which I was going to do anyway), and set it all back up. I put the goldfish that had been in with Rocky into another tank. He did not seem to take to it well, and I am not sure he will make it even after restoring him to the big tank. Well, he is Rocky food anyway. I guess it is the idea. I do not like just giving Rocky fish, I like for him to have to work for it, as close to how he would in the wild. I would ask for no different treatment.
But it is late and I am very tired. I need to shower first. And finish up with the tank. I’m trying to give the goldfish a little time to snap out of it. Perhaps it was just the shock of being chased with the net and relocated. He does seem to be coming around. Five more minutes and he had better be ready.
I have noticed that bloggers are not blogging and news is slow. As a matter of fact, even with me getting out a lot more and doing other things so that I cannot pay as much attention to it all, it seems slow. It must be just about dead out there. I do not really care, I realize I have very little to add these days. I think men have lost to the mechanisms of socialism, so for those few freemen left, it is only a matter of surviving and perhaps passing what we can to our young. The days of despots, kings, royalty, and paupers is once again to be upon us. I am not even sure how much of Christianity has survived, though from what I am seeing, very little of it.
The goldfish did not live, so Rocky is doing what he does best.
But it is late and I am very tired. I need to shower first. And finish up with the tank. I’m trying to give the goldfish a little time to snap out of it. Perhaps it was just the shock of being chased with the net and relocated. He does seem to be coming around. Five more minutes and he had better be ready.
I have noticed that bloggers are not blogging and news is slow. As a matter of fact, even with me getting out a lot more and doing other things so that I cannot pay as much attention to it all, it seems slow. It must be just about dead out there. I do not really care, I realize I have very little to add these days. I think men have lost to the mechanisms of socialism, so for those few freemen left, it is only a matter of surviving and perhaps passing what we can to our young. The days of despots, kings, royalty, and paupers is once again to be upon us. I am not even sure how much of Christianity has survived, though from what I am seeing, very little of it.
The goldfish did not live, so Rocky is doing what he does best.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Maybe not as planned, but not bad.
As it turns out, the beans finished cooking in the hot water that they were left in. They turned out pretty good too. One bowl of them just plain and a little warmer than room temperature, one bowl heated up with a little cheese. After getting out and about, I was too tired to mess with making rice. That gives me something to do tomorrow anyway, rice it is.
My garage door is bungled up. I am not completely sure what is wrong with it, but I found a spring which had broken and replaced it. That does not seem to be the whole problem, so I called my landlord and left a message. I actually noted the problem on my way out for my hike today, but did not want to bother my landlord as I thought a replaced spring would be all that was necessary. Another bother, but at least my landlord is a good guy and either fixes or gets things fixed quickly.
The walk was good. I cut my travel time by a third, sat down only twice, and drank a fifth of the water I had previously. I am not really going for time, I just noted the time. Then again, it was at least ten degrees cooler and the sun was shining at such an angle that I saw even less of it today. I then drove to the swimming hole. They do have a changing room, one for each sex. But I realized there is no way to secure my keys or celphone, so I skipped the swim. I will be pondering that the next few days. I also decided against fishing as I do not have anything with which to bring the fish home. Well, I am nearly all set should I decide to do either of those activities. Hmm, maybe there is metal box I could lock with a standard paddle lock then attach to something stationary with a bicycle lock for my security and a five gallon bucket for my fish, oh and a filet knife. No, I do not trust people.
After getting back and fiddling with the garage door, and failing. I then had some supper and chilled a bit. Now Rocky is getting a housecleaning. His tank was pretty nasty, so I thought it was about time. And, I am not going to feed him as often or as much. I will be good and tired tonight though. As a fact, I already am tired but I have a few things to finish up. Maybe I can tear into my house tomorrow. I do hate housecleaning, but I have put it off long enough, and I do like a clean place. If I am feeling up to it, I may take a local hike. I can stay on flat terrain, if I choose, around close. I wonder how much of a difference that will make as my paths out there are very hilly. I do not think I am quite up to going to the trailhead and then taking that path. That would be a fairly long hike just to take a hike. Oh, and I think I have pretty much ruled out hiking on city paths, I just remembered. Women just freak out when they see a man. I am big, but I am also clean cut and mind my own business. If they are that insecure, I say stay home. Oh, hey, I saw squirrels this time. Not a lot of them, but enough. And, I was nearly jogging through there so I was a little surprised I saw any. Yes, hunting season is not too far off, squirrel and deer.
Hmm, I might just have a pipe and a touch of scotch. Nothing says you have done well like a manly pat on the back. Well, after Rocky is happily, or not, back in his cleaned and sorted abode. Yes, I think so. Just a toot will do with this stuff, cask strength and $200 a bottle (I only buy it once a year, so hush, mother).
My garage door is bungled up. I am not completely sure what is wrong with it, but I found a spring which had broken and replaced it. That does not seem to be the whole problem, so I called my landlord and left a message. I actually noted the problem on my way out for my hike today, but did not want to bother my landlord as I thought a replaced spring would be all that was necessary. Another bother, but at least my landlord is a good guy and either fixes or gets things fixed quickly.
The walk was good. I cut my travel time by a third, sat down only twice, and drank a fifth of the water I had previously. I am not really going for time, I just noted the time. Then again, it was at least ten degrees cooler and the sun was shining at such an angle that I saw even less of it today. I then drove to the swimming hole. They do have a changing room, one for each sex. But I realized there is no way to secure my keys or celphone, so I skipped the swim. I will be pondering that the next few days. I also decided against fishing as I do not have anything with which to bring the fish home. Well, I am nearly all set should I decide to do either of those activities. Hmm, maybe there is metal box I could lock with a standard paddle lock then attach to something stationary with a bicycle lock for my security and a five gallon bucket for my fish, oh and a filet knife. No, I do not trust people.
After getting back and fiddling with the garage door, and failing. I then had some supper and chilled a bit. Now Rocky is getting a housecleaning. His tank was pretty nasty, so I thought it was about time. And, I am not going to feed him as often or as much. I will be good and tired tonight though. As a fact, I already am tired but I have a few things to finish up. Maybe I can tear into my house tomorrow. I do hate housecleaning, but I have put it off long enough, and I do like a clean place. If I am feeling up to it, I may take a local hike. I can stay on flat terrain, if I choose, around close. I wonder how much of a difference that will make as my paths out there are very hilly. I do not think I am quite up to going to the trailhead and then taking that path. That would be a fairly long hike just to take a hike. Oh, and I think I have pretty much ruled out hiking on city paths, I just remembered. Women just freak out when they see a man. I am big, but I am also clean cut and mind my own business. If they are that insecure, I say stay home. Oh, hey, I saw squirrels this time. Not a lot of them, but enough. And, I was nearly jogging through there so I was a little surprised I saw any. Yes, hunting season is not too far off, squirrel and deer.
Hmm, I might just have a pipe and a touch of scotch. Nothing says you have done well like a manly pat on the back. Well, after Rocky is happily, or not, back in his cleaned and sorted abode. Yes, I think so. Just a toot will do with this stuff, cask strength and $200 a bottle (I only buy it once a year, so hush, mother).
Hmmm, still tired. I'm getting to it though.
Woke up way late today. Oh well, what can you do. I am taking care of some old business that I had sort of forgotten about. I turned off my home phone as I never use it, and like I want to talk to the telemarketers who still get past the Do-not-call list. I give at the office, really, so, NO. I finally remembered to get my truck taken off insurance, but my company is pretty good about things. She dropped it back to the first of the month. Now to call the Xterra loan company and see what is up with them. They think I might not have the X insured. Well, I suppose some do not insure. Oh, yea, I have to call and see if my city will take tree bits, my landlord got busy on a tree I had not even noticed growing along a fence, somewhere. I like trees but understand one might mess up the fence, which I like more. There is something else, if I can think of it. Two of those things will save be between $55 and $75 a month at least, I believe. Dang my procrastination.
And no, I have not been out on the path yet. Though I am gearing up for it. I just packed my bag with extra clothing in case what I am wearing is too sweaty wet even after drying a bit while I take a possible swim, my swimming trunks, a swimming muscle-t, and a big old beach towel. Plus I put in a few pieces of gear I like to have for no other reason than they are guy tinker toys, though they could come in handy. A multi-tool and a strap-on head light. Get em’ at Wal-Mart, they work just as well and cost 1/5th , 1/20th , maybe even less than the others charge. Plus, they are just swell for guy toys. Oh, I will be taking my fishing gear too. Some of it. I might have to check out the rest of my stuff tonight and see if I can get all of my reels up to snuff.
I decided to start eating a lot more beans and rice. The mix offers all the proteins needed, in combination. And it is cheap protein. I will still have my steak or two a week, and sometimes I will add in hamburger to that mix for flavor and to know I am eating something big and dead, killed for me. Of course, I do add bacon bits to my beans anymore. I guess that counts to some degree. But I am a beef-eater and a bit of a snob about it. I will probably start eating a lot more eggs too, boiled mostly. It is the cheap protein thing, again. Along with the water canned tuna without mayo on (mostly, it’s the main ingredient anyway, I will not go “granola”) wheat bread. I am cooking up a pot of beans while I have been stirring, writing this, and getting business done. I do not think the beans will be done before I go, so I will just finish them later. It is an odd thing, but I never get gas from beans. McDonald’s food, eating some greasy food out, and a passing flu bug are about all that make me gassy. Sort of sad, I was always a bit jealous that my big brother could flatulate at his whim if often my horror. Wow, I mean wow, I still think something is wrong with the boy, possession, some horrible disease with no other symptom, or something. Imagine runny eyes and choking ten times a day, when I did not see him about to die and dodge the area, more if I happened to be slow, lamed up from jumping off the roof wrong, or asleep. Yes, even in his sleep! Memories.
My brother has been on my mind lately anyway. We were typical brothers, other than me being a little freaky. He was older, but I was bigger, after about the age of 4 (we are 10 months apart, technically to the day (of the month)). Mom was on my side up until I was about five, then told him not to take my guff. By then it was too late. I was already bigger and that only went down hill for him from then on. He got into wrestling in his early teens, and I could no longer take him. He never could beat me up, but he could and did pin me until I was too exhausted to wrestle. I suppose I have to say that is winning, but it was a different game. He was the good son, I was the joker and trouble. Though that was mostly just in our family. Given all, we were both pretty good kids. When we got in trouble, it was usually just being in the wrong place with stupid kids. It does happen. We both paid a heavy price for our misdeeds. Mother trucked none of it. I know both of us, when we were very young, stole a candy bar or a toy she knew we could not have afforded. She sent us back to the store, alone, to hand it in and take our punishment. Called to make sure we did. Paddled us good after that, and called it good. A smart mouth got a quick slap, too. Then again, she always let us know she loved us. She supported us when we did well. And she rewarded our excellence as a poor woman can. I will tell you the truth, I would rather have had her humble gifts than all the gold in the world. From her, it actually meant something. It was a sacrifice.
My brother and myself had ups and downs, did not always like each other, and as the younger brother I was a thorn he just could not shake. On the good side, I did not allow others to beat on him. That was my job. I thrashed more idiots than even he probably knows about for that sin. I believe he resented this, as toward the end of our life under the same roof, he would often befriend those I trounced defending him. I know I felt betrayed. When we were preparing to go into the service, I talked him out of joining the Army and into the Air Force (I had plans on being an MP). He did so, but then I got a great chance in the Navy, nuclear power school, I took it. He never did say much, but I felt his disappointment. Though I still think it was the right choice, I still feel bad about that. And, I am quite pleased he did not go into the Army. He went on, finally, to marry and have some children. His wife and I do not get along, probably never will. However, after my mother’s last visit, I think he would be open to see me and show off his little ones. I have been watching them grow up and seeing into his life through pictures for years, and I am hoping it will work out. I had left that door open for the last few years, but he had not seemed interested. I cannot say if mother did something, if something in his life made him stop and think, or a combination of those things, but I will take it. March is a ways off, but it will arrive. It would be nice to have a brother again, nieces will only add to the joy.
And no, I have not been out on the path yet. Though I am gearing up for it. I just packed my bag with extra clothing in case what I am wearing is too sweaty wet even after drying a bit while I take a possible swim, my swimming trunks, a swimming muscle-t, and a big old beach towel. Plus I put in a few pieces of gear I like to have for no other reason than they are guy tinker toys, though they could come in handy. A multi-tool and a strap-on head light. Get em’ at Wal-Mart, they work just as well and cost 1/5th , 1/20th , maybe even less than the others charge. Plus, they are just swell for guy toys. Oh, I will be taking my fishing gear too. Some of it. I might have to check out the rest of my stuff tonight and see if I can get all of my reels up to snuff.
I decided to start eating a lot more beans and rice. The mix offers all the proteins needed, in combination. And it is cheap protein. I will still have my steak or two a week, and sometimes I will add in hamburger to that mix for flavor and to know I am eating something big and dead, killed for me. Of course, I do add bacon bits to my beans anymore. I guess that counts to some degree. But I am a beef-eater and a bit of a snob about it. I will probably start eating a lot more eggs too, boiled mostly. It is the cheap protein thing, again. Along with the water canned tuna without mayo on (mostly, it’s the main ingredient anyway, I will not go “granola”) wheat bread. I am cooking up a pot of beans while I have been stirring, writing this, and getting business done. I do not think the beans will be done before I go, so I will just finish them later. It is an odd thing, but I never get gas from beans. McDonald’s food, eating some greasy food out, and a passing flu bug are about all that make me gassy. Sort of sad, I was always a bit jealous that my big brother could flatulate at his whim if often my horror. Wow, I mean wow, I still think something is wrong with the boy, possession, some horrible disease with no other symptom, or something. Imagine runny eyes and choking ten times a day, when I did not see him about to die and dodge the area, more if I happened to be slow, lamed up from jumping off the roof wrong, or asleep. Yes, even in his sleep! Memories.
My brother has been on my mind lately anyway. We were typical brothers, other than me being a little freaky. He was older, but I was bigger, after about the age of 4 (we are 10 months apart, technically to the day (of the month)). Mom was on my side up until I was about five, then told him not to take my guff. By then it was too late. I was already bigger and that only went down hill for him from then on. He got into wrestling in his early teens, and I could no longer take him. He never could beat me up, but he could and did pin me until I was too exhausted to wrestle. I suppose I have to say that is winning, but it was a different game. He was the good son, I was the joker and trouble. Though that was mostly just in our family. Given all, we were both pretty good kids. When we got in trouble, it was usually just being in the wrong place with stupid kids. It does happen. We both paid a heavy price for our misdeeds. Mother trucked none of it. I know both of us, when we were very young, stole a candy bar or a toy she knew we could not have afforded. She sent us back to the store, alone, to hand it in and take our punishment. Called to make sure we did. Paddled us good after that, and called it good. A smart mouth got a quick slap, too. Then again, she always let us know she loved us. She supported us when we did well. And she rewarded our excellence as a poor woman can. I will tell you the truth, I would rather have had her humble gifts than all the gold in the world. From her, it actually meant something. It was a sacrifice.
My brother and myself had ups and downs, did not always like each other, and as the younger brother I was a thorn he just could not shake. On the good side, I did not allow others to beat on him. That was my job. I thrashed more idiots than even he probably knows about for that sin. I believe he resented this, as toward the end of our life under the same roof, he would often befriend those I trounced defending him. I know I felt betrayed. When we were preparing to go into the service, I talked him out of joining the Army and into the Air Force (I had plans on being an MP). He did so, but then I got a great chance in the Navy, nuclear power school, I took it. He never did say much, but I felt his disappointment. Though I still think it was the right choice, I still feel bad about that. And, I am quite pleased he did not go into the Army. He went on, finally, to marry and have some children. His wife and I do not get along, probably never will. However, after my mother’s last visit, I think he would be open to see me and show off his little ones. I have been watching them grow up and seeing into his life through pictures for years, and I am hoping it will work out. I had left that door open for the last few years, but he had not seemed interested. I cannot say if mother did something, if something in his life made him stop and think, or a combination of those things, but I will take it. March is a ways off, but it will arrive. It would be nice to have a brother again, nieces will only add to the joy.
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