Fiddling in the lion's cage, laughing at the gorilla, and all sorts of fun and games.

I noticed this article last evening, very late I do believe. I had heard about this not so long ago, perhaps at an earlier stage in development. And, I believe I had stumbled upon something about it or like it much further back. My mind nibbled the notion. I have played with scenarios, contemplated, meditated, and prayed about this little gulpable magic carpet ride to innocence. Could it be so easy? Could it work? If it worked, what would that mean? If it only half worked, what would that mean? After great consideration, and assuming beyond the capacities of the medication as I last believed them to be and into a perfect end to those things I see, dream, smell, taste, and feel, which burn as fire and ensure my belief in lycanthropy, “No”. Not just a “No.”, but a resounding “NO!”.

First, I am what I have eaten and seen. Scarred, some say and I do not deny. So are my hands, legs, and arms. I have very thick skin, hearty and enduring, even boiling water does not burn it, even when I pour it over the same area, twice, in a few moments time, while still half asleep and trying to catch some meaning to local and incessant girl squirrel chatter while trying to make us some hot tea. I barely noticed even on that cold morn. Certain parts of my mind, body, spirit, and soul are thus hearty, if that lends to a type of weakness as well. The scarring is not so harsh on the eye as it is on the senses of the over sensitive. Even should I not bite, the skin of this shark will cause bleeding in the fair notioned, thin skinned, weak, and feeble. I can neither change that past or process, and would not if I could do so. I was forged, by hammer and fire, cold, imbued with carbon, cleaned of oxygen, formed, tightened, polished and outfitted, and finally sharpened. Some say I have become dross. Even I believed this for a time and attempted in no simple easy or painless manners to unmake this Master’s product. Either His will or His product was too strong, and even I will concede that a condemned man may only be executed twice. No, I would not unmake, nor deign to lay my hand or mind against the Master’s plan again.

Nor would I recommend it. If you do not hurt, you do not grow, learn, or change behavior. That is almost a text book definition of death. Go there and you will stay there. As for my part, I will leave you there and have no part of one who goes there. As well, it is my suspicion that should you be able to drop the conscious memory, you will never escape paying the dues. And more, those dues are quite expensive, more so if you do not know the bill collector is on his way, may (will, and often) drop in unannounced, and you find that his demands for payment or unequivocal, your wants and needs fall before these, and there is no negotiation.

Sometimes I cannot stop the mirth. I am only a comic book character, after all.

As mentioned, I left a message for the Q.O.D. and went to bed after that last post which was about 2:17 or something. I slept like a babe, urhm, or a babe that sleeps soundly anyway. I awoke at 4:56 for unknown reasons, then settled and fell back to sleep, planning to awaken at 8:00 or 9:00. No such luck. At 7:23 I get a call asking when I called. Oh, that, it was about 2:15 or something. In the afternoon, is the question. No, last late night or early morning, whichever is your preferred referencing system. Ah, I hear, that is a weird time to call. Yes, one might think so, I agree. However, I add, I had just finished the bread so I knew it was done and I figured you would get the message and do as you pleased, which, you are doing, correct? Yes, I hear. Do you have butter? Why, yes, I believe I do. Then, I will be right over. *click*… *ring*… Hello? Do you have coffee? Yes. Then, I will be right over. *click*

Upon her arrival, she inspects the bread. I am almost surprised she did not produce and use a microscope, spectrometer, and a few other tools. Ah, probably cost prohibitive. She looks, touches, smells, weighs in her hand, and looks up and around to find me. White bread? White bread again but not a question this time, but she inquires with her eyes. Yes, white bread. Hmph, well, I will try some anyway. Go ahead little one, wade right in. I may or may not get to whole wheat or partial whole wheat, I went with this to see if I could do it at all. Nibble, nibble, she ate the first few tastes as if being forced to eat her peas at a dinner table in always was and never will be again land by her horrible parents or such. Then, not so much. She cut a piece and ate it right there. Then another was cut and consumed, and I do not believe she lost a crumb. I cannot be sure how much she ended consuming, nor do I worry. That she liked it, and was hooked, was quite the thing. She did slow long enough to go play her computer word game, returning to the kitchen a time or two to lighten the loaf, and commented that this, indicating the bread, will make her fat. It took more impulse control at that point than any can imagine. A submarine captain having a whole enemy fleet stop, weigh anchor, having a full compliment of torpedoes all right there for you. You get everything loaded up and are about to sink as many of those ships as possible, and right as you are about to order the attack, an urgent missive from Washington with orders not to fire. No, the war is not over, they just want to check some data, and feel bad about this or that. I hate Washington. So, the squirrel nibbled her bits, played her game, and washed her rags (her excuse for coming over, after I had declared fresh bread and cheese) without losing a single solitary battle ship. She got a couple of fresh cups of French press, enjoyed all but the cheese, and then headed off to wherever she headed off. I really enjoy some of the local fauna.

Well, I am awake and moving, albeit it slowly. Getting up an hour or two early is a good thing. Since my grooming is complete, I may see if the neighbors are home and see if they might have an interest in a few loaves of bread. Hmm, I might inquire as to the potential interest of their direct neighbors in receiving bread as well.

Not much else on the agenda. I will just see how the day plays out. I have a few things I am pondering, a few lists that are a bit dated but still in play, several interests, and a few needs yet to obtain. As well, while the local fauna was scarffing my horrible food, she indicated the day for our wilderness wandering event. So, I will need a few items. I should be able to acquire a cast iron legged grill, upon which I may cook either with implements or much as a barbeque grill. As well, I will want a sleeping pad, perhaps a waterproof bag, and I will have to see if a ground cloth came with my tent or not. All of these will go to my long term equipment needs, but I had hoped to save money this month. I will just have to see what I can do, save elsewhere, and bite the bullet a bit. It is life, and not a bad one.

Oh, now to go out and get in some kind of trouble or other. Hmm, I have not been golfing, fishing, or hiking in some time. There is the confession situation which needs tending. Laundry could be done, along with a little of the storage sorting chore that remains on my extra list. At least the general feel of the cave is good, and the kitchen is smiling, clean, and smells of bread. I am still not quite awake, which is not helping. Decisions. Decisions without a notion or clue. I guess whatever happens, looking back on it later, will just have happened.

Oh, yeah? Yeah. *beep, beep, beep...*

Done. The day is done. I am ready for sleep, but just a bit more awake time and then I will do so. I was able to fit a load of wash in, then get it into the drier, now folded and put away, during the day. I began the bread shortly after my last entry, and it finishes baking as we speak, onl… there is the beep. They are complete, and tumbled out of the pans as if it was their pleasure. While I was in the midst of preparation, I went ahead and produced homemade mozzarella cheese, with fresh diced basil and garlic from a recipe borrowed from this lady. It chills in the refrigerator and has for an hour or more. I even had time to supply my stomach with a more substantial meal during one of the risings, I do not believe I had any other food this day. Beyond, all of the dishes, save the bread pans, have been washed and put away, the counters are clean again, and all is stored or restored. Now, to read the part of the instructions about storing, again, as the time is more likely for knowledge. I will cut one loaf tonight, try a bit straight, a bit with a touch of butter, a bit with some cheese, and maybe a piece with butter and strawberry preserves. I will let it cool just a bit before digging in though, five minutes is my plan. And, do not worry K, I have a proper bread knife!

Regardless of how the bread seems when I eat it, just that I got this far is in no small measure attributable to K. I used her recipe, I followed her hints and tips, and I tried to do these things as rightly as I was able. The kneading took the minimum time, K. Each of my paws is technically big enough to knead by itself. As well, I had to cool my jets while doing it. I did not believe you indicated it was supposed to be an aerobic exercise! At first I hit it hard, then almost immediately adjusted down to a smooth, easy, long rolling motion. I cannot say I enjoyed it as you seem to, perhaps in time. But I will enjoy the produce I believe, and time and care are of interest to me and they are some of the few things which I can afford. So, publicly, officially, and as respectfully yet loudly as I get, “Thank you K!”. Thank you very much.

This day did not end up too bad at all. A few things processed a bit more, a few things finished, a few things to begin to compliments some completions, and plans.

Tasty! At first, and being quite full, I just was not getting it. A sliver of a slice tasted in the raw and I was not sensing much. Then, apparently, my taste buds sprang to life. They let me know that this indeed was a fine product. What a relief. After looking over the storage instructions, washing the pans and one of the racks now that I can put all the loaves on the remaining rack, while I considered my initial consideration of what to do with the loaves, I decided to take two loaves to my neighbors house tomorrow as soon as I rise and finish my grooming. Oh, and I will call Tangle Puss and let her know there is fresh bread and cheese, should she wish a sampling. Hmm, to make a few more batches without wasting the proceeds though. I wonder who else could use a couple of loaves apiece, or more? I will think on it as I sleep soundly tonight.

Getting closer in several planes.

With my list readied and my plans complete, my phone rings. It is a police officer, though not the one in question. He indicates that he will discuss this matter and apologized for the lateness of the attention to this matter in the other officer’s stead after I explain why I am working on this at this point. I explain what I saw and where I saw it. I add the details, including the children’s proximity. And I explain that I looked for my phone to call instead of going out as that would not have been pleasant and it might well have endangered the children further. He listens, interjecting here and there, asking this and that, until the story is told and seemingly understood. At that point, I ask what his recommendations for future situations such as this might be. He suggests I call the police, again. I suggest taking pictures, at which he almost says “NO!”. I can feel it. I indicate I can photograph the animals from inside my house, if necessary. He still wants to say “no” but does not. He has no further comment or suggestions. I ask if there is any kind of neighborhood watch in place in this area or the city in general. He says he would not know. Then he just says no, not one of which he is aware. He suggests, at this point, that I speak with my neighbors and get them to call the police if they see anything untoward occurring. Somewhere in there, I ask if the neighborhood is lost, if the thing has been pretty much given up as de facto by the powers that be. He does not know, does not think so, does not understand the question I believe. It happens, he says, randomly and here and there. Yes, I do understand, No, I will not go with that plan.

Now I need to see if my neighbors are interested in keeping drug deals from happening 10 yards from their children (who are not allowed to watch any movies or shows their parents do not approve (most) or stay up past 20:00). Children that are trained in church, every Sunday, and on other occasions. Good sons who enjoy Cub Scouts and a father as a Cub Scout leader (and good one on both counts). I worry. I know he has a thousand things on his plate, limited resources, fears of his own, and a gentle heart. His wife is strong, though she is a woman. Put simply, women may very well concede rather than quarrel, or go overboard the other direction. I just cannot ever tell which, or more, when which. The other neighbors in the neighborhood also must be spoken with. This is the part which I will not enjoy, in British understating terms. Pulling a tooth with an exchange of knowledge in the most diplomatic means possible, only to find I am dealing with a corpse. Apathy is astounding in so many, and means surrender. Does the potential for one more moments breath mean so much that one would inhale that breath in shallow quiet gasps, fearing that too much noise might also end that breath?

So, after planning, talking, then pondering, I finish my post and head out. I arrive at the parking lot, park, and rush right in to find my favorite store… gone? I visit the place at least quarterly, and it is a part of the mall, a mall which does have twists, turns, and nooks in which to hide such shops, but gone? Ah, my memory must be lagging, it is at the next intersection I assure myself and squeal my boots in that direction. Not here, not back there, where? Gone? I spy a directory, with listings and a map. I peruse the data and find my difficulty. The store, it indicates, is still open, back where I first looked, but in a ‘V’ cutback off the entrance hall with which I gained entrance to the complex. But is this old data? Doubts linger in my mind, as is their want. With a little faith, hope, and lacking a better plan, I venture forth at boot speed and find the place, and it is open.

I enter the store, send salutations the way of the ladies tending the shop, and head to my first and primary items, bread pans. I look over their offerings, checking weight, my other sensual intakes perked and brought to bear, and my intuition likewise on high alert and brought to the fore for the task. This ends up being quite simple for one with my skills, since there is only one type available. Does that make me genius yet? *hush* I grab four and begin pondering the rest of my list in my mind, but from the distraction regarding location, I pull a blank. I reach for the list and immediately know where it is and is not, as usual, it is exactly where I put it so that I would remember it. Genius indeed. Still, I walk the store, hunting, pecking, looking at other wants and perhaps future needs as I attempt to restore the memory. In the end, I do well enough I do believe. The bread pans, a baguette pan (a part of my last failed effort, aside from the yeast, was trying to produce these on a cookie sheet, I now understand), a salt pig, two large cooling racks as after comparing the largest part of the bread pan’s footprint to the rack two seemed to be in order, two packages of cheese clothe, a tea strainer to actually be used to infuse mint and small enough to fit through the small glass bottle opening, a set of metal measuring spoons as I have more than become frustrated with plastic anythings and heart-shaped to indicate wherefrom my preparations truly arrive, and of course a bit of conversation with the pleasant young ladies tending the register, one of which I recognize from every visit I have paid to the place, pleasantly enough.

Yet I know there are other parts to my list, and I try to recall these as I head to my vehicle, climb in, start up, and begin rolling to the next store on my list. White wine vinegar is called for in the cheese recipe, and there is but one store I am sure would carry such an item. To the New Pioneer Coop I go. I had thought of stopping and picking up milk on the way, but the milk I pick up will be new product so back-shelved at home, therefore must be as cool as possible as it will be a week before I get to it perhaps, therefore the Coop first. Racking my brain, I consider what I need other than white wine vinegar. I pick this up and realize I had hoped for a honey pot and honey comb server. I retrieve the vinegar and begin nosing my way through here and there, in the hopes of finding or remembering something. I think of potential fresh herbs for the cheese, and look, but it all seems organic, so I move on. I have been looking at the beers the last few times I was in that store. I did not care for the chocolate or Guinness stouts and they have no more English stout with which I have found enamor, but I see my old favored though bottled in a more European pint style pilsner. I grab one for me and one for the road, pay for the goods, and on to the last store. In this store I purchase non-organic basil and a gallon of my milk.

After arriving home, I realizing every single baking and cooking item needs to be washed. I settle the food items to proper storage places, leaving one of the beers on the counter, and run water until it is too hot for even my skin. I then remove all tags from the cooking and baking wares, plug the sink, add some soap, and let them soak. I then manage to open the beer and begin this blog entry. It is just about time to go tend the dishes and find out where I need to begin after that is settled. Drats, I just saw from the list that I did forget one item, canola oil. Hmmm, I do have peanut oil and olive oil, and a half dozen other oils from safflower to grape seed, my usual being the first two mentioned. K does indicate any of these should work, so I may just have to use one of these. The peanut oil is much less expensive, yet the allergies to it may be devastating. Still, this is a trial run, the neighbor and his family who might receive a loaf or two are not allergic to peanuts, and the product should provide a perfect sample run. Yes, peanut oil it is. But, it is a little disheartening to not have done it right, as planned, precise. And, if I am to do this, I have no time to mess with going to the store. Idealism, 0, reality, 1; I am ok with that.

So, to the kitchen I go.

Bread, is it? That and more, I do believe.

Running late but running well. I did not arise before the noon hour, but when I did it was relatively quick and painless. Without effort, or even realization, I had stayed awake until after 5:00 this morning! So, the sleep period is fine again, if I can just shift it a bit.

I put on a spot of coffee, and checked the news. When the coffee was finished, I began consuming it and viewing the blogs. Then I began to map my day. The policeman needed a return call, the ingredients need to be turned to bread and in order to do so I realized last night that I needed bread pans, and there are little odds and ends I can and will get finished, started, or at least do a few intermediate steps toward their completion this day. The boat is not on time, but it is chugging right along.

I placed a call to the officer in question. It seems I would have been fine by calling him later. He works the second shift. I left a message with my name and phone number, and an invitation to call at his best convenience. I then popped into the shower and watched it rain. Luckily, there was no lightning with that downpour. Having dressed, all save the tying of my boots, I am just about prepared to face the crowds and make my way to a fine little culinary store which has served me so very well since I found it some years back. Prices are fair, they carry the best product for their inventory stocking capacity whether it be All-Clad, Kershaw Shun, or Oxo, rated by function more so than form, though truly not lacking that latter as I have seen it. The queer shops downtown are for the snobs, this one is for the humble home chef. It almost puts me to mind of the old five and dimes, or even some of the remaining good hardware stores, as a store model. Nice. So, bread pans, cooling racks, a salt pig, and maybe a honey dipper jar. Oh, and I will be looking for paraffin and cheese clothe for sure, and maybe parchment. I wish to at least inquire as to the price of these things, but more surely the last. If this bread thing works, I have a few recipes involving baking and dough which have been languishing, the greatest of these is Beef Wellington, old school.

Oh, I did many of the things on my list for last night. Bother the notion, since I stayed up all the night dinker doing. Still, it was good to get a list done, minus the nightcap. And, it will be quite easy to get to the bread this day, with a clean kitchen smiling at me and daring me to try. Now, to see if I can get the kitchen to hum along with my work and sing praises in the form of the sweet smell of fresh bread. Oh, I will check my list for the homemade cheese, I wish to try this on the third or fourth piece of fresh bread.

Off with his, hrmmm, boots? Bye.

A weird day, but the harmonics are improving. Hum, see?

I was awakened, roughly through my heavy sleep, by one of my favorite pests. She had clothes to launder, a hankering for some Scrabble and of course, she was hungry. MEOW, I thought I heard. After going through a number of menu options, millet and barley, steamed in milk, with a dab of maple syrup seemed to be the preferred item (it having been cooked and the refrigerated aforehand). And so it was. I had also posed honey and molasses, but maple syrup won out. After which, we played two games of Scrabble, both of which she won. I feel a little better, actually. After these were done, the laundry too was completed and it was time for her to go.

While here, she defined and ensured plans which we have been discussing. It seems the lady is interested in going for a bit of a camping spin. She is not sure which day it will be until her schedule has been completed and posted for her perusal. With the knowledge, we will plan our escape. I will add her kayak to my rack, her to the passenger seat, our gear to the back, and some number of miles under the tread until we reach some place she wants to go. She seems to know where this place is. As I am improving, I may be able to add this place to my knowledge data base for future reference. It is amazing what being awake can mean. I will let her off, she will kayak to our camping spot, I will head to the camp, set up, perhaps prepare a fire and meal, but certainly I will fish. A night out, a little fresh air, and if I think it safe, perhaps a dip. No skinny on that last, since I am not and would not anywhile. Hmm, if I get lucky enough, fried fish would not be a bad later evening snack.

After she left, I truly enjoyed doing absolutely nothing of consequence. A bit of dabbling there, some looking here, a little of that, some of this, and nothing completed. Still, it was a fine waste of time, as wastes of time go. Finally, I decided I had better do something. I grabbed my list of things to get, added a few items to the list, considered where I could go, and out the door I went… with no clue as to what would happen.

I drove around a bit, first. Just looking and listening to my music. As I was driving, I realized I could and should return the videos I had rented first thing as planned, setting them where I would not forget slightly before leaving in preperation. So, I returned to the cave to get them since I knew where they were. Upon my return, I espied my neighbors wife outside with her youngest. Wishing to inquire and seeing the opportunity, I wave to ensure a welcome. It is returned, so I saunter over and request the goods. It seems the lad is just not yet ready to graduate to newborn status. He seems to have a case of cold feet, or is fretting that very thing. Mother, on the other hand, would like junior to kindly take his leave. The doctor has eased her mind with a definite due date. After the talk, I headed to the cave and retrieved the videos, left right where I would not forget them as I left the cave the first time.

I returned those and thought to see what else was available to rent. Hmmm, let me see, there was… nothing I wanted to see and even more that I would not wish to see. So, I hum about the video rental area an extra time to show that I really tried, then out the door I go with all the money I had intended to spend. I get into the X’ter as if I know where I am going, and I do, forward. I then decide to go to the trail. I will not do a complete circuit, but there is a side path that leads to some benches and the river. I take my comic book secret path to my hidden benches, both craftily secreted in plain sight. I sit, ponder, do nothing, ponder, then returned to the vehicle and started back to the cave. Then I remembered a few things on the list. A few goldfish for Rocky, he gets so lonely even if he is a poor playmate, and I wanted to see about belts. Walmart is all that is open, so I decide to stop in. They are also the store I go to for goldfish, so one stop shopping or browsing makes it even easy enough for me.

I have not liked the belts I have purchased in Wal-mart before, and I have looked at some of my favored clothier’s belts (which I have liked no more than Walmart’s belts). I finally find the section and begin inspecting belts. I only went down to a size 40 belt, I decided this after trying on several of each size and brand. After size was established, I begin twisting, pulling, yanking, and trying to destroy the belts that fit my taste and size. I find two which are not yielding that I like and grab them. Then to the pet aisle. I ask a black man for assistance in the pet department, goldfish are needed. He will get right on that. Fifteen minutes later I get my own, as expected. The check out girl is not so pleased. Chubby, scarred, disinterested except for being obviously unhappy, she calls for assistance. And, ten minutes later, gets it. Off I go. Should we have left together, I am sure she would have won a race to anywhere. Flying is faster and big bottoms only make harsh corners a bit easier by containing the broom in a Manchurian witch’s famous favorite death grip. No, seriously, crack kills. Though it is probably hell on her laundry bill.

A little supper is prepared after I return. I had considered eating out, probably one of the garbage venders one drives through. No, I want to hold on to my nickels, plus, I have better food at home. And, indeed I did. All day I have been hungry for rice, bean, and beef something. A cold chicken hindquarter was lunch and a spiffy one, actually. I was not sure if tacos where on the menu, or if fancy nachos was the entrée de jour. Nachos it was. The hamburger was cooked, the beans and rice warmed as it finished, and cheese was allowed to melt atop the lot as it cooled. It was about a pound of each, and perhaps a quarter of a pound of cheese, spiced to my preference even if it seemed a bit mild to my tastes after all. The mix then heartily sprinkled over a layer of corn chips, then another layer was created above the first, a portion of my mother’s homemade salsa, a little sour cream, and a glass of milk finished the show grandly. Well, it was much better than drive through fare by a long shot. And though I ate well, I still have enough for two more meals, should I eat exactly half so much as I did this evening. Before you go there, you should know that WAS using constraint. I do believe I could have finished the pan.

As I was doing that, I decided it was about time to brew more tea, this time with mint, dried spearmint leaves. I will let it cool, then refrigerate it. I would like to see how it tastes unadulterated. After which, I decided a little update was in order on the blog. Now to repair to the kitchen and repair the damage while prepping for a loaf or four in the morning, maybe a; nightcap, shower, glass of tea, news and blog review, then for sure a pillow fight with the bed, a losing one.

Goodnight. A blah end to a blah day.

So much for plans. It looks like I have to get back on my medication and get it back into full affect. Until then, I am grounded. Foolishness, in spite of truth; I love the reality if I hate the facts. The reality is the medications work and splendidly, the facts are that in helping another and not taking my medications, I have set myself back. At least it is temporary. This meant no confession and no church today, probably not tomorrow though it is a goal. And, I may have to see what I can get done with a confession more quickly if out of normal order, it is time. I cannot accept Eucharist until I do. In another arena, I can give the officer who called me a return call Monday even if my malaise continues. Worst case scenario we play phone tag for a bit and settle in eventually on a time and place, best scenario I am awake and able to receive him into my home for a discussion if he works on these matters. I am not sure what he can offer, or how he can direct me, but I am a gambler. One with an ace or two up his sleeve, I do not like to lose even if liking has little to do with reality and aces only go so far.

I roasted chicken last night, as well as ribs. The ribs were fantastic, and I am just about to try the chicken. I used a roaster my lady friend bought for me. I cannot remember the exact details. Either it was all or half pay back for a loan. If half of it was loan reimbursement, then the rest was Christmas, loan thanks, and other unassociated thanks. She did ask which manufacturer I prefer, and I had to look into it. Though I usually go All-Clad, after looking into their roaster, I had to decline. I do start with my favored brands, but then I almost always research and compare products. Usually All-Clad pans are special because of the incorporation of aluminum inside the steel in the bottom and up to reasonably near the tops of the pots and pans. This was not the case with their roaster. So, I found another maker, Calphalon (contemporary stainless) and a preferred roasting rack, All-Clad, for use in it. I went with the All-Clad rack, as in spite of the failings of their roaster, their rack is superior, and initially I could not see if the Calphalon came with a rack or not. The reason I wished for an aluminum core was that it allows for the production of gravy in the roaster right on the stove without warping the pan (and I would think eventually ruining the pan). So, with the drippings, just my understanding of things and no recipe, I tried just such a stunt. I made chicken gravy.

Now, I will not say one other human on this planet will like my gravy. I certainly will not claim that it is as good as your grandmother’s or even your mother’s gravy. What I will say is that to me it was excellent, uhm, very good is more like it. I believe I now know the simple nature of gravy production and henceforth will have no concern on the matter, if practice and experiments with spices will enhance quality. After years of other methods and consistent failure, I am well pleased with this.

As I am heating my food in the oven, I decided to add a touch of tarragon to the gravy, which is in a ramekin on the plate. I cannot wait to taste it again. Oh, there is the beep

A pleasant meal. And better, few dishes!

The Queen had a request. Today was the final day for a specific sale and she was all done in. Could I, she wondered, make my way to the said store and make purchase of the noted items, in such and so number and flavor? It was a message, so a quick call to the Q.O.D. with an assurance, and off I went like a speeding snail. Yeah, well, I needed to shower. Then, hmm, who knows what else. Oh, my list of spices! I looked over my supplies, wrote down the spices and portions that were desired, and headed right out the door to sit in my vehicle while getting the cd’s I have been listening to out and putting a new set in. *sigh* Fast as a 1990 modem, reliable as a Russian _______, accommodating as a Chinese Official! At least I got out of the house. I got to the store and realized I left my list of spices right where I would not forget it (and technically, did not forget as I knew right were it was). Still, I made off with most of what she wanted and at least some of what I wanted, spearmint to add to some of my tea and a few spices I was sure I needed. I told you it was messy around here.

Something that may or may not be throwing my game off is that this morning I went on the patch. Waking up and getting going without a pinch between thumb and index finger relayed to cheek and gum was a bit harsh. It took a good long time for the patch to begin dosing. I am pretty sure I am still a bit off kilter just for that reason. Well, I thought I would try to post in any case.

A piece of ∏ on my mind.

I just finished watching "∏" (as in greek letter and math symbol). I had wanted to watch in when if first came out. For some odd reason, I was warned off it by a number of fellow engineering students and a professor, in a number of separate situations. Silliness, it was a show like any other. They might have done better warning me off Conspiracy Theory, that actually got my juices flowing. I did enjoy ∏.

∏ underlines why I chose not to pursue math further than I have and will be required to do. One last course and I am done with the stuff. Except of course for usage. There are only questions in it, and no answers to be found pursuing it that our limited rationality augmented by the finest computers which do not yet exist can come close to fathoming. Nothing it provides will be useful, even to the lowest step toward heaven it is now believed by some, and falsely, to reach. It is a fine pursuit for those who may safely enter the realm of questions. I have yet to meet such a one. I have only seen lost men sure that this theory they propose will be the answer, until it fails or they fail to complete the proof, and is repeated until their time is done. Some of these men are more lost than others, but none are untouched. It has only given them something to do before they die and after they were born. A few produced useful work and provided useful techniques in antiquity. Most today are quite sterile of even functional value. Let them play, they are a rather harmless lot.

In the movie, the protagonist presumed a number of things, which given the scope and direction of the movie seem to bolster my belief that movies are produced by the simple for the simpler, perhaps even my thesis that mathematicians are lost. All I know is, if I propose a character and setting, I could present no functional timeline in which that character learns nothing and no one else sees folly where it is plain. This character seems not to see what the movie seems to present, albeit sharply implicitly. None of the other characters see it, none of the sequences hint about it, and I think it may have been lost to those who wrote, those who produced, and most who watched. Simply put, the movie, through characters and evidence continually claims, roughly, that the universe and all is based upon numbers, that it is numbers. And, it argues there may or may not be a way to understand those numbers, how they sequence, and thus gain true knowledge. Yet everything in the movie actually indicates something quite different. It develops that the numbers only represent the universe. Something I have seen clearly forever, it seems. As well, though not something I get from the movie but believe, numbers may hold truth, but only past truth in such a manner we might perceive currently and no substance as absolutes. Through further iterations and manipulations, the future might or might not be seen, that is debatable, though that would require perfect understanding and reckoning, which is undeniably unattainable currently (currently as in; while inhabiting this life form).

Much as an artist who paints a picture of a fair maiden, living in a castle, with many servants, piles of gold, and many other blessings may never enter that painting and marry the damsel represented or lay claim any of the other rendered elements, so to can scientists and mathematicians never entertain their theories or numbers in form. It is madness. It matters not an iota how correct those numbers, theories, or portraits seem to be or even are, they are not real, cannot be realized. Simple, really, and frustrating thought it must be. This is why I should pursue engineering, should my will and way persist. My work will be real should I deign to dignify the craft with my coming of age, collecting of mental tools, and if all holds with a refurbished hail demeanor. Lord knows I shall never conquer the world of painting, prose, love, or politics. Even my shadows present problems for me at times. *laughs* We shall see.

Still, I do believe I enjoyed the movie. Something nameless and simple about it attracted my attention and I understand questions. Perhaps too, I know something of the labyrinth in which those questions may lead. I know about stepping back, letting go, and finding other paths in different directions. One might even say, if I thought his solution would work to such a degree, at one time I might have tried it as the lesser of darkness’s. So, I could recommend this. Though I think it is not for most, a trinket for geeks from some movie maker. But a major possible joy to those in this niche.

Well, in a nutshell... (the size of Manhattan)

Tiger Lily had called early, she was forced to leave a message. I slept late, as I had spent a good deal of time and into the later evening with her. We had watched Star Trek II and III, (Revenge of Khan and In Search of Spock, give or take on the titles) last night into the late. After the first movie, she had wished me to return to the cave and bring butter, oil, and tea back. The woman is a culinary mess. So, I get these, she pops popcorn (which she did have), we brew some of my mint tea, and watched the second movie. Perfect, in a way. She provided for the movies and the popcorn which she popped, I provided the oil, butter, and tea, and did the fetching. We both enjoyed both movies, but she really enjoyed the second. She did not believe she had seen it. I had brought Star Trek III because I was certain it was integral to Star Trek II, and it proved out. It pleases me to do things correctly, to get things right, and to complete tasks wholly. Ah, a pleasant night. So, back to her call.

Her message indicated she wanted me to drive her around, and maybe mess around, platonic folks as that is my rule. So, I call and see what the current situation is, though I inform her that it is nearly time for my doctors appointment. She was just a wee put out that I was not awake in the morning to pamper her a bit, it is in her voice and wording. She is feeling better and she will be going to work tonight, she says. Good, I say… very good. Now I can get back to my life. And more, I was a little worried for my song bird. She needed water and a serving of beans. Well, ok, my cooked and stored beans, Coop beans, or something else. A little clarity little one, I request. Your beans, and it is not a question. Beans, a serving, and water as soon as may be. She knows it is my payday, and I know she knows. *sigh* And I know she is going to stay up until I deliver, but there simply is no time before my appointment since I have to buy water as well and cannot just give her a container of mine.

As in most doctors visits, I get to see the nurse first. We informally discuss a few things as she was weighing me and then taking vital signs. Among the topics discussed was tobacco, she brought this up. I knew the VA did not offer a regimen of the nicotine patch that I had found successful the time it worked, then messed up by visiting my mother too soon after quitting, she being a chain smoker. I did not think the VA offered 21 mg patches either, it did not when I had asked before. Yes and no, she believed. Yes, we offer the 21mg patch now, but probably not for a month stretch in each flavor. She suggested I ask the doctor though as he might know better. I have been trying to figure out how to purchase my supply of the patch up front, as I have tried before, only to have my finances come a little short and the venture end as an expensive waste. And, I would like to quit. Chewing tobacco, Cophenhagen to be specific, since I was 9 or 12 or some foolish age as such. I also indicated that, as I am becoming active, my feet are beginning to pain me to no small degree, only a 3 out of 10 today though. I have kept at it anyway, and it was not a part of the previous problems so I had not brought it up with the doctor yet. Yes, a doctor thing for sure, she indicated. Nice lady, really. She is a little sad seeming at times, she is a bit older, but she has a clean crisp motherly nature. I did enjoy our time and visit, even in it’s professional constraints. I hope she is somebody’s grandmother, as she would be a good one.

I am shepherded to the doctor, who leads me to a check-up room. I think the doctor was impressed, just by my appearance. I am always clean cut, showered, dressed casual though well in a humble manner, and courteous. Today all is as usual but I am walking a bit taller and stronger, he sees more than just a little lost weight and more size difference than the numbers take into account, and my eyes and mind are unquestionably focused, and then I present a smile and the hand shake of a man coming back into his own. When I described life, even with this last week’s interruptions, the first impression grew to a satisfaction. A satisfaction in his work, in my efforts, and some extra just for the fact that life is not always bad and he was getting to share in a small piece of that. Life is moving along at a good clip, I am doing much better, I tell him. It has been the longest positive stable stretch in years at a little over a month and a half now, he says. He wants to keep things as they are for the moment and see if my activity will lower my blood pressure the touch more he would find respectable. Though he did put me back on the water pill, as I suspected he would, he reassured me that the dose was indeed small and if I had had no difficulties with sun exposure that I probably would not. He suggested a hat, a long sleeve shirt, and jeans as better than sunscreen. I concurred and assured, and will. As well, he would like to maintain the nurse visits. Rocking such a problematic boat does not seem to be his order of the day, in six weeks he would be happy to dismiss the miss if I still so desired and things were still on the up. He offered to let me insist on ending the nurse visits or not going with the water pill. I told him he has been doing quite well with this so I am comfortable leaving steerage in his hands and that his reasons were sound. But more and though I did not tell him as much, he did not lie.

Onto new matters. He knows how hammer toed I am, all but my big toes point straight down, though this has not been an issue until recently. Sitting barefoot in a chair or in bed results in little toe contact with hard shoes and reality. And my big toes have almost no flexibility on their usual axis. So, he prepares to send me to prosthetics for shoe inserts after we finish and sets up a referral to the podiatric clinic. My mother already said she would stay with me a bit if surgery is needed and I already know I will not go in twice for surgery if both feet are indicated. Though I would do it all at once with or without help. Hit the damn nail until it is in or leave the work to real men! He prescribed the patch, the whole works of it. So, tomorrow, I start those. And, I will be quite happy. I was scratching my head and recounting numbers trying to figure a way to work that cost. I paid myself last time, and it was about $250. Plus, I was just about out of tobacco. Perfect timing!

So, after the doctor, a visit to drop my information at the pharmacy for filling (not all of it can be done electronically), and a quick visit to obtain boot inserts and end up receiving two pair of inserts plus being informed I could and should refill the inserts in six months by letting them know, then downstairs in order to wait for my prescriptions, and then I was finished. I was a bit amazed, having arrived a half hour early as is my current custom, I did everything and was on my way in an hour and a half, or more, an hour after seeing my doctor. I headed to the store first thing, filled some of my requirements while getting her water. More milk, MY kind this time and two whole gallons of the full fat stuff, seven and a half gallons of water plus 2 gallon jugs for her, a few treats (hush), some ribs to roast while I roast the chicken hindquarters tonight, and a few other odds and ends. Back to the cave, put things away, separate her water, put some beans in container, and over to her place I go. She almost thanks me, though she is a little sore I did not play earlier and a little unhappy it took so long, and I believe she is not the most pleased to be going to work again. Ah, but papa bear has done his job, and the broken winged chickadee is well and about to fly, like it or not. *push* hehehehe

Now, what trouble can I get into? Hmm, I would like to call the officer back and see if we cannot meet or whether that is of any use. I need to wait a bit on the neighbors, as the stork is circling their house, preparing to drop a little goo-bot on their already chaotic life, however I would like to get an update on their tactical situation. Gee, I think I am sweating it more than the husband and in some ways even the wife, as she seems more interested in timing and the labor pains than the delivery! And I want a wife and kids? *sigh* Yea. *hits hand with hammer* I do. *places finger in pencil sharpener* I am sure it will complete me. *slams hand in car door* I think about it and, yea… no, yes.. proper, solid, yes. *laughs* I never really was a man to take the easy way, and pain just seems to be a healthy part of life, beyond, it is not all pain, not even a majority I should think. The whole pain thing is just to scare off those who are not ready, mostly.

I need to get back out to the path, find some other paths, go fishing, get to mass and probably confession which they seem to be calling something else these days, go swimming, get back in to the rock wall, and just begin taking life by the horns again. Though I must add this. This last week was a true joy. To be able to be a comfort and help to someone, to play and enjoy a little company, and to feel as if I was able to repay some old debts was more gratifying than I can say. It was not easy, it was not always what I preferred to do at some moments, it took patients especially in the heat, but it was worthwhile in every way. And, I did quite well. I did not get short, tired, or flimsy. I did not catch her illness (as I told her I would not, every five to seven years is my deal with that, I get a two week fevered rollercoaster ride of delusional heaven and hell). But, I am tired now, I will enjoy a few days off to recharge, then get going with confession tomorrow morning, church in the evening, and rest Sunday with maybe a little target practice in the afternoon. For this purpose, and while I was renting videos per the Queen’s commands yesterday, I picked up some of the videos on Bane’s list, and a newer one which I had missed in the theatres but which, after careful review, may pass my Hollywood stench muster.

The lion ponders his many prey. The grasses that sways to and fro catch his eye. A thatch of which he attacks in jest, play, safety, and joy, sharpening his nature. Then his thoughts and senses find traces of the jackals, gazelles, water buffalo, and zebras which surround him. Those which are no small joy to deal with, but which carry their own and real dangers. He thinks of the others, the lionesses, the nearby males, and what each means. He thinks of his days in the sun and in pride, of growing and leaving his mother’s pride, and he thinks of a pride of his own. And this one wonders many things besides. But his hungers are haunting, yearning, incessant, and perhaps insidious, forcing him from his reverie, destroying his peace. He is himself again, and moving. It is time.

This one is a show stopper.

How nice. I saw my first drug deal go down today. Two black men approached another, there was the typical banter. They were too far away, among other things, for me to hear. I saw the singular remove a little rectangular fold of paper and watched him move it toward one of the other men. I could not see it pass between the two, but I saw that it was no longer in the hand of the initiator when we brought it out from between the two of them. Fine you say. Except that there was an 8 year old and a 6 year old playing a few yards away. Fine you say. But it was out my kitchen window where I saw this. Stuff your “fine”.

I called the police, what a help. Now, to decide what to do. Either I get some satisfaction, or I move. I will go into the station, I will speak with my neighbors, and I will decide what to do from there. But, I am leaning toward moving out. I am thinking the police have no power. The politicians locally, in this Democratic state, and at the federal level have pretty much turned their backs on the issue, and others. But where to go, this is not simple. This junk is everywhere, and the police seem disinterested wherever one goes, either because they are wholly incapable, totally unsupported at the upper levels of the force and the judicial level, or bought and corrupt. I know, in this county, whose side the prosecutor is on. Leftist areas always hire Nifong types.

But where is reasonable without a boatload of money? There are not many clean places left even in Iowa. Our last two governors have supported the import of these types probably in order to permanently changed the political dynamics here, in favor of their party. I will have to think about it, but I am pretty sure I cannot stay.

Love is in the air, the time approaches.

You know it is a hot summer when this old coot gets love in his blood and considers the reverie of mating squirrels to be reasonable. I cannot say what it is, there is no woman tracking on my radar, but the thrum and rumble issue deep from within. It is a feel even more than a psychic sound, as what a deaf man would sense near a Harley. It throttles and then idles, the ebb and flow beyond my understanding, but it is alive. I am alive.

My senses reel as I understand I am coming back to life, perhaps more so than in decades. It brings memories of my early and late teens, and early twenties, up to my first death. That power is truly awesome, even in powerful righteous self-assured men, whether that power can be handled correctly must always be on the mind. Like a chainsaw, one small slip and great damage can ensue. I understand the way I courted then, though, a bit more. I realize it was almost completely hormones and perceptions. With my advanced age and experience, I begin to get glimpses of what it must be like on the females side of it. The guilt must come from the fact that in the dance, her perceptions do not fully fit a more reasoned later understanding. That with her natural, social, and probable culture disinclination to certain forms of romance and certain levels of openness and forwardness, her enlivened actions and reactions in the dance leads directly and immediately to guilt once reason returns. I would also suppose that the early and fast way of dealing with this guilt was marriage, or finding whatever place in her society would allow a guilt free walk into such heady territory. When people died in their 20’s and 30’s, there was rarely time to find dissatisfaction! Ah, but these are not my problems, I have enough of my own.

As I have said, I dreamed of her. I was not sure I would be able to pursue this maiden, but I knew from my dreams that she is out there. Now, I am sure I could pursue the opportunity. At this point, care must be taken. I will not spill seed again until I am married, and as a man, I feel it is my duty to protect her honor in the time before such an event, most especially from her and myself. This goes back to the handling of the chainsaw bit. A practiced hand does wonders, but must never become overconfident. And, more, I do not have a practiced hand so I will seek guidance. My blood boils and courses, my hormones scream, and my mind clouds, but I must be the lord of my flesh and domain.

My lady friend has appeared. She is hungry and wishes to watch video or go to a show. So be it. I could use the company. A pretty lady, a sensuous daughter of man, and a friend are always a high priority, though she cannot be the One. So, excuse my while I tend our simpler needs and wants and enjoy a pleasant day.

Sleep, gain, and loss, music to the ears.

My nap was splendid. There was a problem with a friend that was bothering me as I slipped into sleep. I had offered advice and comment previously. Both seemed off and both received responses that left me questioning some things. One hour and fifty five minutes later, I awoke on my waterbed, smelling dinner, and I believed Melissa had just been in our bedroom (did I ever say how gorgeous she is?), probably considering whether to wake me for dinner but she wanted to check on dinner before she made the decision. Sometimes she just stands in the room naked and wakes me with her presence and then offers a gentle smile. As well, I had dreamed a response to the friend. It seemed reasonable, so I decided to use it.

As things came into focus, I realized I was not on my waterbed because I do not have a waterbed. Weird. Then I realize that the presence in my room could not have been Melissa, I left her in Charleston years, decades ago, crying and looking down as I drove away never to return. And, that meant dinner was not on the stove. That threw me for a little bit of a loop. I was really hungry! Bah, ok, a few tears for lost loves to be sure.

Anyway, I pop up, clear the mental mess, and take note of what I have and need. The message from the dream! Can I remember it? I really am hungry, so a toast tuna sandwich is produced and does the trick. Certainly not the gourmet cuisine I had smelled. While doing this, I turn the machine on and let it stew until tepid. After completion of my supper, I go to the place where I am to post.

Then, I begin to get nervous. Will this be another failed attempt, swatted aside like all the other leavings. Will this just cause hard feelings as the others seemingly have? I am not sure if I am any longer in this lady’s grace, in any case, but not for my part. I present a little extra, something that was not in the dream, as my beginning. A personal note regarding my intentions and such. Then I let her know wherefrom the rest of the response arrived, and begin.

I am still a bit tired and heartsick, but I did my best. I can only hope it lends meaning to her toils and life. Perhaps it allows her to know someone she has never met thinks after her, her welfare, and her hopes and dreams. I do not know. I never will understand this place, people or their reactions, or the absurdities, profundities, and such which incorporate solely within the frame of the living again. One might even say I cannot understand youth, and what resides there. Though I lived it in my earliest youth, I was never a part of it. I knew it then as now. Perhaps I shall soon know her response.

Ah, a little Bach to wipe away my tears and reclaim the flesh as I continue to wake. Some music to send the whispers of doubt and dread to the corners of madness from whence they came. A little peace, for a moment.

A nap, I do believe.

I do not believe I will be going to the rock wall tonight. I am just too tired. It really is not that I have been doing a lot of things, just a number of them, in the heat, and I really am not up to par yet. Beyond that I suppose I am just human. So many lists of things to do, so many wants, and of course needs, but how many of those lists are ever really completed? Even if a few lists get done, are they not then refilled almost immediately? Yes, I am sliding a bit. Ok, I will not play that game. I guess I have lost this day, and the last few. I can only be pleased that I have done something for someone else.

She has been told to stay home by the doctor. She may not have a fever of 100 F, but she does still have a fever. She is to stay home so long as she has a fever, and this is her work doctor, so she is in the clear. It will tighten her purse though, and that will not be fun. I cannot help much this or next month, but I can share some of my food, decidedly non-organic as it is. And, I can invite her out for walks, though I will probably go on ahead of her, as she is far too slow, then return to her when I am tired enough to lollygag. But, she can get some sun, woods, and walking without paying for the gas. She does not seem interested in fishing or swimming, but if I get a captive freebie passenger, I will let her know that even something free has a price, the price is watching my stuff while I swim after a walk. No surprises, but no negotiations. She can bring a book. Well, when she is feeling better anyway.

As I was heading home, she must have called. I thought the cel was vibrating, but it has tricked me before, so I ignored it. It seems Star Trek is on the wish list of my friend. The one where Spock sacrifices himself. She could not remember whether it was a movie or part of the series. I assured her that it was one of the movies, though which one I could not be certain. I only remember the name of the first, and worst, one. I informed her that not only was it a movie, but that it was a part of a series of two movies. I then asked if both would be on her list. She just did not know. Well, for my part, I am going to call around and see if I can track them down. I would like to have had a nap, but I do not think I will have time. Oh, and she thanked me. She thought I had been very good to her lately in spite of Scrabble. She has yet to win a game out of the 5 or 6 we have played. Her scores have mostly been in the respectable 350 range, but it just has not been enough.

Sorry, my blog is mostly about her, our doings, and such lately. But, that is what has been filling my life, so, in it goes. Wow am I tired. I think I will just take a nap and see what happens from there. A two hour nap usually does it, I set an alarm and usually am awake and moving before it goes off.

Another day, another list.

Slept well, got up late. C’est la vie. No mass, that is a bummer. I need to speak to my priest about visiting other churches for mass. We have five in the area, and they each hold mass at a different time, from 8:00 to 17:00, give or take. I am pretty sure he will concede, considering my effort to make it to my home church (if failing often) and my sincere interest in attending mass. I suppose I could just take the problem in hand, but if I am to give my will to God and join in the body of Christ in the church, then I will have to start acting like a member of that body and seeking guidance in, at least, religious matters. The nurse called, and will be going on vacation soon, therefore she will be arriving shortly, as she apparently needs to catch up on paperwork. I will not cancel her without my doctor’s approval, so she will be here in moments. Hey, my doctor has been working with me I prefer to return the courtesy. If he is getting the data, or has a use for that service himself, AND is honest about it all with me, we might work something out. I can be negotiable, if I am not a negotiator.

Oh, as I was viewing the news this morning, I found a piece that confirms that I am not completely alone. There are other cowards out there. This man is more afraid of a little human than many other things, even in his age of wisdom. I was gladdened to see it. Our mutual cowardice is indicated further down in the article, but it rang bells here.

I had best get some of the boxes off the couch. I keep meaning to get some things packed and my last room rearranged, retire some old games and old unused clothing, and make room for my reloading press and open up the space for straight weights and piano practice again, so I have been holding onto some of the right sized boxes. It just has not happened to date. My lady friend has asked that I hold onto the odd sized boxes as well, as she prefers to recycle. I let her, though I think it an unwise practice. I do this because it helps her feel important in the world and the little she could possibly recycle makes no real impact on the larger problems regarding recycling. *sigh* But she has been busy, on vacation, or sick for a bit so the boxes I will not be using linger. I could break them down, but really, I do not like setting my hand to ill notions. Then again, should I be sending them to the landfill or burning them, I would break them down. *sigh, again* Ok, fine, I have painted myself in a corner and will just have to get busy.

Actually, I am glad the nurse insisted on a visit. After writing the paragraphs above, I got things on the move in order to tidy the place a bit, then realized today was trash day. I develop so little garbage, that two week pickup would be fine, if some things did not produce pungent odors anyway. If something goes bad in the fridge, I just leave it there until trash day. I had some things there that really had to go. And though I remembered trash day last week, I had not cleared the fridge. Ah, one more little thing off my mental list of things to do. Nice.

Then for a shower and driving Miss Daisy. *ring…* doorbell…

Ok, that went fairly smoothly. The medications are reset, and I found that one of the medications I had thought I was taking had been discontinued. I will discuss this with my doctor, as it had been causing no ill affects and may have been lowering my blood pressure by a few points. Then again, maybe not. That medicine had a warning about sun exposure, which I had pretty much been ignoring, probably to some level of personal peril. I had not realized it was discontinued, so I had been taking it to this day. I was about out, so she called to check on it. That is how I found out.

The day is good, in spite of all things ponderous, problematic, and left on the list whether missed, done, or yet to do. I really am enjoying this new found life. I think I am going to continue to push on those edges until I break down the fences, walls, and other imposed boundaries, again. There are real limits, at my current level of skill and condition, but these too can be stretched and those change. I will just have to try and maintain some of the humility, patience, and kindness I have gained. Just perhaps, Mr. Dowd, Mr. Crowley, Iron Man, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and myself can become whole without becoming less.

Sleeping with the fish.

Woah, dude, I am wiped. Her house was hot, all day. And, I did some running, fixing, cooking, and washed the dishes as a final gesture. Ah, but she was much sprightlier of mood today too, if still tired and ill of body. Having care when one is ill really is nice, she has done this for me to varying degrees. Supper was good, though in the heat, neither of us wanted seconds. I left her with the remnants, as when I asked she begged. I have plenty to eat and am happy to see her not have to do too much for her next meal. Plus, I know she is getting meat. Foolish girl.

I am a little sore from sitting all day. I am just not used to that anymore! What a weird thing. A few months ago, that is all I did. It is odd how fast a thing can change.

So, a shower tonight; to bed early, with Vivaldi taking care of chamber music; an early rise; morning duties and pleasantries; mass; Tiger Lily to the doctor; and then the rock wall. Of course, I may have to let her win a game of Scrabble tomorrow if the doctor does not take too long. I cannot wait to try out my shoes and begin my life of hanging out. And, I need mass.

Oh, the nurse that visits has been trying to contact me. She got me today, and I said Friday would be fine, but we have yet to work out a time. She was very helpful in the beginning, and I really appreciate the VA for obtaining this service, but I think it is at an end. My meds are working well enough that even should I fall off them (and I will), I will climb back on them. I am having no ill side effects and am really enjoying life. I receive no high, low, or moodiness on the stuff, but I do have enough energy to stay awake and sometimes dig in to both necessity and pleasure. She wants too much information and will not tell me why. I have asked, her answer was untruthful. As well, an important document disappeared from my place, with only two having access. One of them acted “funny” right about that time. The other has access much more often and it did not happen in the two years I have had the document. I do not care for lies or capers by leftists. The deal is done, just a matter of finalizing the paperwork then flushing.

I just do not have enough money to even check out belts right now. But my pants are seriously problematic. The shorts I have been wearing have an inner tie cord, so I can adjust them, even if they do look funny, they stay on. My belts are to their last notches and just will not hold, so I am going to have to figure something out. Ah, rope! It worked for Jethro, and we do have a little in common. Though, I am not a prettyboy. At least he was handy and straight too though. Hmm, or was it only Elly May who wore the rope belt. What a babe. Oh, and Jeanie! And, oh, Samantha! Woah, sleep is going to be hard.

A pleasant day with the pauper Queen.

I was able to help the lady out today. I surprised her a little by getting to a repair she needed the day after she asked. When we had been together, it did take quite some time for me to get on a task. Then again, she always had more tasks than I could manage and I was rarely at my best, except when in school at times (then I was busy with school). And, I did prepare her evening meal, every night save few as well as dishes every few days if she did not get to them. I had all the tools and parts I needed. I left a few extra parts for that type of job in case she or I needed to do similar in the future. I had finished and was about to leave her in peace, when she asked if I would play a game of Scrabble or three.

I had nothing else planned except rock climbing. It was early afternoon, so the proposition seemed reasonable as I believed I could be out in time for training. And, I was trying to help her decide to go the doctor’s office while I was doing the repair. I thought a little more time to add in my yes vote to her vocal thinking might be worthwhile. We played three games, all very close, and I won each. At this point, I almost wonder if she is toying with me. She usually wipes me out if the game is close near the end. She knows all of the little words when the board is closed and difficult. Then again, as I returned to my apartment at 18:00, it was cool comparatively, yet it was 79 F in my apartment. She does not have a way to measure the temperature at her place, but I will guess that it was into the 90’s F. And, she is ill, if a bit better. Her fever broke in the night, though she still feels pretty ragged. I will not be making the climb tonight, as I made a further deal with the little Queen. By the way, I did help guide her to making a doctors appointment tomorrow. I do feel better. It is probably nothing, but she can stay sick for weeks if she does not care for some of these things.

She was quite hungry, but was not sure what she wanted. I am hungry, but cannot go for anything too bizarre in this heat. So, after some negotiations, and failures to find a solution, I let out that I still had a pan of enchiladas, the meat being two parts ground turkey to one part ground beef. She had shared in the first pan, though had only said it was ok. Today the same ok food is fantastic. Plus, she wanted gazpacho. I would have made that myself to save on expense, but I reminded her that there are no fresh tomatoes yet. Saddened by the realization, I suggested we use some of my mother’s salsa. That too was a big hit. Ah, so the deal is done. I stopped in the Coop to purchase active bread yeast, but also some fresh spring lettuce for the meal and returned to the cave to bake the enchiladas. When that is cooling, I will hike to Hy-Vee for fresh flour and some other bread ingredients. By the time I return, the enchiladas should be cool enough to transport. I had better take the sour cream, as I doubt if flower girl has such.

It is time to head to the store.

The morning yawns, and I notice.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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!