Roast.

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The roasts from the cow I helped butcher were okay, at first.  But... the flavor was a bit odd.  It's just different.  And I started... cutting back eating it.  The hamburger could be mixed with other hamburger to blend it out easily.  Not so with the roasts.  Well, tonight, I figured the roasts out.  Pressure cooking them, with a bit of garlic powder, salt, pepper, and oregano.  Forty minutes later and... that roast is as good as any pot roast you could think to buy anywhere.  Sliced thin it will make one of the best sandwich meats you could buy.  Even the texture isn't off, and with no artificial beefy "natural" or not flavoring (which I simply don't like).  I am loving that pressure cooker.  Before I am finished for the night, however, I do believe I will pressure cook another meat, a pork roast from the hog I had butchered.  That reminds me, I need to order another hog.  It takes about three months for one to be ready, which is just about right.  They aren't as heavily smoked, the smoked parts, as I am used to.  But that is both good and bad and balances out.  There really is such a thing as too smoky, at least for me.  And mild, you know, I think on even those things with which I like extra smoke?  I think it will grow on me.  I'm sort of easy, if it may not seem like it.

The goal, of course, is to have everything cleaned before I go to bed.  It may be another day or two before I can hit any real work.  I have the rug shampoo and steam vac ready, I just need to find the clear plastic runners so I have a psychologically (and physically, hate wet socks) path to walk.  But I can tinker in this time.  I might try to make some egg noodles tomorrow, and leave them out to dry, for a beef or pork or beef and pork noodle special Wednesday.  It'll be an experiment.  My mom used to make them once or twice a month.  It's a lot of work, but not heavy or hard work.  Mostly, at least for a guy.  Cleanup is what will hit me in the pocket.

I have been working on sudoku.  Improvements have been easy to see.  At the easier end I am doing okay, but not really improving.  It's at the middle and upper levels where I am doing much better.  I am actually in sudoku training mode.  So, actually, right now, I am not worried about times.  I am taking my time to try to pick through spotting things, just with the eye.  I hate doing minutia analysis.  Not my thing.  I want, and really need, to do things on the fly.  It's how I work best.  I have noted, at the very highest levels, I may or may not be able to train up quick mind-eye-hand responses.  The... methods and... patterns... might be too complex.  We will see.  I've only been at it a few days.  Perhaps I am being a bit too hard on myself?  Ah well, I'll... know more... about the truth of these things and more... someday.

Later.

Just... chuckling.

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While I hope to be one some day, the trick is... well... not as straightforward as it looks on paper sometimes.  For every her there is a him.  Her first love.  Even when everything is right, if it looks a little off, or sounds a little off?  Yeah.  But then...  I resemble that remark.  If I ever have daughters, Lord help the lad who thinks to win her hand, alive.  So I do understand.

How do you know?

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With the world being so relativistic seeming, how can a man tell if he has put in all he can?  How do I know I worked?  Calves are still burning, muscles are sore everywhere, and my ribs feel like I am halfway through recovering from a 15 round match.  Yeah, I put it all in, then crammed on the lid and put some more in.  What I did when help arrived was about a quarter of what I did, and the dreg ends so not the heavier part.  Worth it.  Not only did it... make less work, I think it added motivation.  It showed... an instinct to cleanliness?  It's the little detail work that usually beats me up.  It would be easier if everything weight 75 pounds and had a place to go.  Paperwork?  Tiddly bits?  No clue.  None.  Zero.  Like radar in a tinfoil shower... useless.  Two full days up, doing what I could, when I could, as I could.  I am fighting tooth and nail to keep it right.

Oh, sure, I am greatly out of shape.  I have all but literally been sitting since I September.  And I will probably be sitting for a while longer.  In the shop on a lift?  Yeah.  But it looks like the engine has made it through another year.  I'm not sure who is betting for or against, I just wish they were more open so I could put money on that horse.  I think it's got a lot of road ahead of it.  And, actually, with the place set back up, it might be much easier to get to other things. 

Oh, and, yeah.  I found the carpet soap.  I haven't found the plastic runners though, yet.  Hmm, another reason to call my mom.  She is doing a bit better, after the last call, and is getting packed.  Still, more annoyance is good when the sun isn't shining and it is hard cold.  I know, some days when I don't want to answer the phone, I still do for her.  And it does help.  Not what they say, what they do, you know.  And that trick works around the clock.  I should be careful with my advice! 

Later.

Still rather done in.

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Too tired and sore to do much.  I tinkered with one of my rifles though.  There were a few things I wanted to check.  One thing of note, it wasn't packed with grease.  It is fine to fire, if I would still like to give it a thorough cleaning first.  As well, after cleaning, I would like to polish some of the parts.  I did a bit of polishing, to see what kind of work I was looking at.  Not much effort will be needed, just a bit of time, a goodly bit.  I did remove the front grip, as it blocked larger sized magazines.  There are a number of parts I would like to replace, a few others I am considering replacing or adding, but I can't see putting furniture on the thing that would make the thing more expensive than a better rifle.  As well, I may consider giving it a duracoat finish, for longevity of the rifle.  It is a project I can work on over time, something to do or tinker with.  A man thing.

I pulled meat out of the freezer.  I am going to use the pressure cooker some more this week.  And, with the workspaces cleared, and dishes done and being kept up as I go, I may do something fancy, like make home-made egg noodles.  Later this week, if I can get out, I might buy a small can of filling and make my own smaller fruit pie, more like those fruit pies that are just filling surround by crust, like a hot pocket.  Diabetic, not dead.  There might even be low sugar pie filling.

Little things I have been considering can now go forward.  The goal is to not fall back, for as long as I can.  I did dishes last night, right away.  After I was done tinkering with my rifle, I put the tools away, and I am keeping up, for now.  Then again, I got behind right when I was down.  Spending so much energy up, at, and on the return from Burning Man, then the medicine problem.  I never got caught up, just kept falling further behind.  This is a totally different situation, and I am further up towards a mended state, possibly verging on being back in the saddle, or it's visible after one more increase in dosage.  I might be able to keep up a little to a lot better.  Time will tell.

I best get to bed.  It is very late.  Good night.

Doing morning rounds.

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Slept long and hard.  My throat was is dried out from snoring, and there were a few other things that suggested I slept hard.  As well, I am a bit sore.  Some soreness is from muscle usage and angles.  I did a lot of dishes and I haven't otherwise been able to be active lately, so I really pushed my physical body, within the givens.  Not dead so I will recover.  Oh, and I finished the dishes last night, before I went to bed, all of them, including the cast iron skillet.  Love that thing, by the way, at least when I can keep women and soap away from it.  It's almost got a year of fats rightly keeping it non-stick and 'alive'.

It'll be a day or three before I am back on my feet.  That's just the way of it.  I pushed everything, and without any real ability to prep.  But I am in a great place to push further.  A clean fish bowl makes pushing, and wanting to push, much easier as well.  Like a dog after a flea bath, I tell you.  What next?  Bedroom and steam vacuuming, on the short lists.  I'll practice with the rugs that I can set aside or otherwise not use.  Unlike Iowa, carpets out here dry within a day or two.  I was surprised.  Still, I'll need to figure out the living room, find those long runner rugs and stick to a path.  I might have plastic ones somewhere.  Hmm... where is the rug shampoo stuff?

Sometimes I have to laugh.

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I was watching a program, while pondering what to do next.  There are other things I would like to do but I really am sore and... indisposed.  It's just the way of things.  In any case, the program drew me in.  It was about mountains and wilderness.  The topic of the program was irrelevant, thankfully there is a mute button.  Watching the flyover of Alaska, I kept thinking... boy would I like to get there.  I wonder what a trip would cost.  Laugh?  Oh, yes.  I LIVE there.  No, not Alaska.  But in the mountains.  Yes indeed, I do need to get in shape to get those snow shoes rigged, test them out, try them on flatland (maybe), then head out.  But I don't have to go to Alaska to do that!  To be a fool doesn't mean one has to remain one, all of the time, or something like that.

Someone, recently, was trying to convince me of something I know to be false.  In the situation, and generally anyway, unless forced to respond, I let people believe as they wish.  If they have become my people, regulars, that changes, of course.  The thing is, I did chuckle inside.  I am sure I made some funny faces as I was biting my tongue or chuckling internally.  On some topics there is no way to win.  You, on some topics, aren't arguing with me.  You are arguing with God, with history, with the traditions of every people and culture, and all through all of time.  If you wish to believe something, be my guest.  But... don't think you even have a chance, and don't back me into a corner with a leading question.  When cornered, it is not I who end up howling.  I'm quiet, sure, and right.  I just take out my hammer and snap that nail right back into place without so much as a thank you.  Believe as you wish, just... don't try to get me to believe.  I have been chuckling over the notion for a while now. 

With little energy and a sore body, I have decided to do a bit of tinkering.  My AK 47 needs some work, and cleaning.  I haven't found my gun cleaning kit, yet, but I have found some sandpaper, tools were found yesterday and have been brought to bear, and I am about half way through a complete, total, breakdown of this firearm.  The first thing I will be working on is smoothing out the action, trigger, and cleaning up fit and finish.  No funny business, mind you.  I simply want a smoother trigger pull, less drag on the cycle, no hangups, which all lead to a longer lasting, better functioning, weapon.  I'm not technically an armor, or anymore.  But this is a simple enough firearm that such is not needed.

I have been looking at other types of weapons, as well.  More for hunting, potentially, and as target shooting devices.  Bows.  The three types, today, are the crossbow, the recurve, and the compound bows.  For hunting, the crossbow is out, at least for my state.  It is only offered to those disabled to the point, and in a way, that makes standard bows impossible.

The recurve bow is a fine bow.  But it doesn't compare with the ease of use or power of the compound bow.  It is less expensive.  In this area, I am actually looking into take-down recurve bows.  It makes it easier to pack, but also opens the option of varying the arm strength so that I could start, and potentially practice more surely initially, with a lighter weight bow, then move up as needed or wanted.  Further, the bow would be something to allow others to learn with.  Problem with the recurve bow include it's relative lack of power, that it is much more difficult to learn, and I think I have heard that it might be slightly more dangerous to use.  An advantage is that pull length is variable, a compound bow has an exact pull length.  My draw length, being 31", is making even finding compound bows to compare... a bit difficult.  A compound bow, a good one, will cost as much as a mid-range pistol on up to a mid-range rifle, but without anything like the range of a rifle.  I am not sure a compound bow has anything like the kill capacity of even a .45 pistol, to be honest.

Well, if I ever do get up to getting out, you don't think I'd choose to not do so with specific activities in mind, do you?  Hunting.  Fishing.  Maybe even photography.  That little camera I have is fine, but I am still hoping to get a serious one.  Money didn't work out to get the Nikon D7100 this year, but it's still a dream.  I won't worry about that dream until, unless, I begin getting out a lot more and then doing it regularly.  Even then I would only review the notion if I started seeing things that I think are unique enough to consider photographing.

A real dinner, mostly.

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With dishes done and the cave... easily comfortable... I did get dinner on.  Spices where a little off, but it wasn't too salty.  The oddities, otherwise, were more a little different than actually bad.  I happened to have purchased a form of instant potatoes when I was stalking up recently so decided to make those.  I didn't really need to fry the pork cubes, if it didn't hurt the meal.  I made gravy from the cooking juices.  It was a rather decent meal.

Not wanting to mess things up, I quickly gave everything a first wash, save the cast iron frying pan.  Then set it to soak in fresh water and soap.  I even washed the stove and countertop which took the brunt of the cooking utensils.  Then put the remainder of the meal in the refrigerator.  I wanted to do a load of laundry but never did quite have enough to do that.  And it is getting mighty close to bedtime.

The girls aren't sure about this new openness.  They can't sneak around as easily as they could before.  Oh, I still knew where they were, they just couldn't see me so thought themselves invisible, or something.  Sam is okay with it, it is Sassy, the youngest, who is really unnerved.  I got her when she was a very tiny kitten.  But she sometimes acts as if she had been an abused animal.  If you see her with me, you will know that she hasn't been mistreated.  I'm not sure what it is with her.  No worries, I just give her space, and let her have space if she needs it... mostly.  What I DON'T do, anymore, is sneak up on her.  Youch.  While becoming more civil, she still doesn't always look before baring claws.  An unbridled cat claw and fury is seriously wicked.  She'll get used to it, if I have anything to say about it.

Tired.  Very tired.  I will be taking the next few days off, probably.  If I can do some laundry, keep up on things, and do a bit more sorting of whatever, though, I will.  It isn't a willful thing, taking a break.  It is more a suspicion.  I am a bit sore, but then I pushed hard... and cheated.  Up two days.  Good night.

Lots o' work was done!

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The young women missionaries arrived, with two local folk, a man and his wife.  I had been doing bits and pieces all week but could not drum up enough umph to really get much done.  Realizing the time was arriving, and needing/wanting to have put a bit of my heart into the project, I cheated yesterday.  I still have some ritalin.  So... three tabs.  That saw me to more, but time was drawing nigh.  I worked through the night.  I realized they would be showing up, so I couldn't nap.  Three more tabs, along with my medicine, this morning.  I kept at it, even then somewhat weakly.  But I did get the dishes done, there were more than I had thought.  I did tear into the kitchen, but had not perfected it.  I did bits and pieces, here and there.  And, so far, I am still alive.  I shouldn't do that, I went on ritalin at a slower, much slower rate.  Risks.  I didn't want them to... feel as if their efforts were for naught, so I literally put my heart into it.

What they did in an afternoon amazes me.  The kitchen was topped off, the bathroom was cleaned, the living room and this room was hit, hard.  It's like a... new home!  Grateful.  I believe that is the word.  As close as a word can get.  As a pig knows, a sty is not preferred.  It is just what many are reduced to.  I know this.  I am all out of steam.  I will probably need a day or two to rest.  But then I want to keep doing.  Just a few more things.  Steam vacuuming the rugs and carpets, well and hitting my room.  I am well into laundry, as well.

After that, if I can continue on?  While I don't have enough plywood, perhaps not enough 2x4s, for the work bench, I would like to clear the area and figure out where to put the bench and pegboard, and decide a few other things.  I have about two weeks until payday, then I will consider what I need and how to get it.  If the garage is ready, that work should be easy.  Then, with the bench up, vice and grinder set up, and a place to work?  Plumbing.  Well... that's the plan.  Grateful.  And stoked to do more.

While the steam is gone, hunger is alive, well, and awake.  I thawed pork cubes and will pressure cook those, then fry them to get some crisp and flavor, and finally maybe make a pasta dish as I did with the beef.  What a day.  Zapped but not quite done with the ritalin, or vice versa.  Later or good night.

No! Thrice.

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I saw an article about a new drug, to help with ptsd.  It helps people forget.  Don't take it.  Don't even think about it.  I won't say I took such a pill(s), but then how would I know.  All I know is I have stuff scrambled in there, just out of touch.  It can happen with severe cases, memory loss that is.  There are a lot of reasons why memory can be lost.  And, truth be told, I have zero proof that... anything happened, ever.  Most information I have suggests nothing of the sort.  As would, I presume, if you took that medication, your file.  Of course, for some, remembering or not, their file is scrubbed.  That's just business.  Dirty business is secret business by it's very nature.  The thing is, you do not want to forget this stuff.  It WILL come back to get you anyway. 

There are two parts, at least, of the brain, that store memory.  One of them they can scrub, if this medicine works.  One of them cannot be scrubbed.  The part(s) that cannot be scrubbed creates a muscle/brain memory of the events and will lead to reactions accordingly when in similar situations.  They can't scrub that.  More...  I do believe echoes from that part of the brain imprint into the rest of the brain.  If it can't quite recreate the lost memories, it can... like ultra-sound... flesh out the notions.  Sort of like a negative, not the picture but... you get the picture.  Believe me, you don't want to spend the next thirty years of your life trying to figure out why you can kill people like a pro, do things that seem psychotic to the uninitiated, and have to deal with those echoes as they surface, but without the skills and training and memory of friends, allies, instructors, and such to help you cope with what you are seeing.  Alone, you will be, and in the very darkest of dark.  You will either figure it out or kill yourself.  Maybe a bit of both.  Same as if you never received a moment of treatment, to be honest.

Oh, and another suggestion?  Don't bother with V.A. therapy.  They will betray you.  Find veterans groups, combat vets, and stick with them.  Truth is, you will never be over it.  There is no reason to throw your rights away for no good reason.  Check with the Veterans of Foreign Wars, perhaps Disabled Vets of America, and some other groups.  If they advise you to use the V.A., find another adviser.  There are some out there.  But don't even think of taking that pill.  You've earned the right to know.  And there isn't an easy way out.  Fact is, you'll spend the rest of your life figuring this crap out.  Heck, it's probably altered you genetically.  Oh?  Do some research on the children of combat vets.  Different.  Just... like... you.  Don't fear it, though.  Personally I think it's a... well... more good than bad.

Troubles for my efforts.

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Little was done yesterday.  I did soak, wash, then set to a final soak, one load of dishes.  A bit load, true, but that was it.  I kept trying to see my way to more.  I kept the window, for my conscious part, open.  I tried to get to other things only to get lost on the way or shortly into the efforts.  In the end, all my pushing did was see me awake far to far into the night.  It's like being in mud that rises to the knees and trying to run.  You just get tired.  If the call is strong enough to keep going?  You just get very tired.  I simply can't do much.  Today?  I'll... keep trying!

I am actually sore from trying.  While I don't get much done, just pushing my body in some states causes literal physical exhaustion.  I am sandbagged by medicine to top it off.  At least the sun has been out.  My call to my mother made me happy to be out here.  Sure, I still have my curtains pulled.  But, as I have mentioned, I can sense the sun.  And, being so bright, I can literally see it.  The heat also radiates through the cracks.  It is warmer with the curtains pulled closed, creating a heatbox, than if they were open, I suspect.  I get the wafts of warmth once in a while.  A treat, of sorts, when I am in the mood for it.  Never a bother though, in the dead of winter.

On the upside, I am improving my sudoku play.  I have, with a bit of study, and practice, while sitting and huffing, improved the levels of play I can complete by three to four steps.  I'm just a few steps from "this will hurt your ability to interact socially" level.  I can now do the lower upper tiers at about 30% faster than most players, without hints.  That is where I started with low to mid levels when I started playing again.  My goal, and to a degree I am getting there, is to figure out how to play them without too much analysis.  I just want to "see" the solution, I don't want to have to stop and think.  And, for the most part, I think I will get there.  The patterns ARE there.  The question is, are you willing to go that far into training to be able to just see them?  Me?  It's what I do.  Only, in this case, there are no doubts.  Either the puzzle works or it doesn't.  Simple.

Ugh.  Later.

Well, maybe they aren't all that crazy.

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Now, I won't completely renege in my notion.  Just that, when a man thinks a woman is crazy?  Yeah, well, it's not always what... it at first seems.  Women just won't express why.  Secrets on top of secrets within secrets.  When a woman trusts to talk, then she won't stop.  Until then, she won't say boo.  Which, yeah.  Figuring out a woman who hasn't yet started talking is like trying to catch a butterfly with your nose... or something like it.  Difficult, although it can be rather entertaining... on both sides, at times.

A bit of thinking and I think I know.  No guarantees, of course.  Yes, pretty sure though.  I do throw things out, random, odd, discomforting, once in a while.  And while all things are possible, most things aren't feasible.  Even if feasible and potentially wise, I may not follow that path anyway.  Something about a rock and moss.  I am a rock but I have gathered moss?  Something.  Still...  Without being able to talk, and even if for fashionable not practical ideas, some pokes to some ribs can put a nose out of joint.  Oh, I still find it humorous.  While completely incorrigible and bearly tolerable, I am exactly what is sought in some circles.  The bad thing is, I know it.  :)

Fairy tales, children, fairy tales.  But they were all based on something.  Fairy tales weren't written to entertain, though, either.  They were written in order to induce you to... write your own, with life, love, war, enemies, friends, and reality.  Why do you think I continue to write publicly?  Now, go play.  I have things to do.

Oh...  I did call my mother.  She is going through a rough spell.  Iowa winters can be rather harsh.  She suggested it was 30 below.  That is the "daytime" temp.  It gets right chilly at night.  She said that there was a blizzard going.  That she hasn't seen the sun as she would want, in some time.  Iowa is brutal in winter.  You really don't see the sun that much, especially in the cold part of Iowa.  That's why I called Iowa City the Florida of Iowa.  I got to see the sun once or twice a week and it 20 below as usually about as cold as it got.  Yep...  Florida!  Seriously.  So, she is blue.  She will be visiting my brother soon, but hasn't packed.  She has her laundry done, she as if that ever really falls behind!  Well, or at least... her behind is... different from my behind... in all manner of meanings, but definitely regarding laundry!  I have decided to nag her, in a good way, to make sure she doesn't just throw it all together on her way out.  It isn't payback so much as returning the favor.  And, yea, it can help.  A call in a few days, then another call if that doesn't see it done.  It does help.  And it means someone loves you enough to bitch at you?  Yea.

On to dishes and, I suppose, laundry.  Actually a lot of my clothes are clean.  It's just that my clothes, towels, etc, are unfolded, in baskets.  Bleh.  Can you just put those in the dryer with a damp cloth?  I think I've heard that.  It would sure save some work.  Bleh.

Later.

Well?

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Don't ask me, I just got here!  A few beers last night for no good or bad reason at all.  It started innocently enough.  I pressure-cooked a roast.  I added water, then thought just a touch of beer might be interesting.  Since I had added enough water fluid already, I decided to only add half a beer.  Waste not, want not, so I finished that remaining half of a beer.  Now, I decided that I couldn't decide if that beer tasted good or not.  So...  I had another.  The judge in me simply could not make up his mind.  After... a few... beers, I never did decide.  But I got more comfortable, that is true.

No troubles doing a few other things last night, as depicted by a like minded worker.  And I woke quite comfortably if not exactly on the run.  A fresh start.  That is what an occasional mid-level sip yields for me.  I rarely go too deeply in the cup these days.  I wouldn't say I went all that deeply last night.  Just a tickle, really.  I don't mind such events, once in a while.  Although, sometimes, I need to go a little longer in the cup for various reasons.  Rare, but...

 

I am continuing to get things done around my home.  Not as fast as I had hoped but more regularly than I had hoped.  I am pushing, and that is yielding fruit, if small fruit.  Today?  Finish the last of the dishes, laundry if I can remember, then hitting the kitchen in general, as hard as I can.  Some things need to go down to the cellar, dishes will need to be put up, and maybe trash and recycling (boxes mostly) can be arranged, perhaps even taken in (boxes).  It's slow, irregular, work, but it is as I can.  And, as I mentioned, improvements are noticeable.  Still fighting medicine, drifting often, but it is coming together.  I have decided to not increase medicine this coming weekend.  I'm tired of being that tired.  Yeah, getting over it faster would be nice, but I like the improvements I am seeing and have some other things I'd like to push through next week.  So...  I will give myself another week at this level of medication.  Only the Lord and I know just how hard I am pushing.  It can only be seen from the inside.  It's not difficult, in some ways, true.  It's more like riding a tornado while solving a rubics cube, psychologically... mentally... even physically a bit.  I'm not great at rubics cubes to start, but that isn't... the whole point?  *grin*

While looking through the news I saw a couple of bits... I wanted to share.  This first story is a story I know to both be true and, well...  Babies come in all sizes, don't you know?  It's not always fake, but sometimes?  This other story is way too funny.  I believe there may be some truth to it, but some truth, as with some smoke, doesn't always mean a simple assumption.  Usually.  To put it another way, I believe indoctrinating oneself to fit with a group that only consciously believes they believe what can be proven, shown, seen, is true is far more detrimental to one's mental health than... figuring out how to make people laugh.  That's all I'm saying the more there.

Well... a bit of waking then on to... something.  Laundry first, or it will be, again, forgotten.  Later.

Dishes and what?

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No, I have put most of the remaining dishes in for a hot soak.  I am, sort of, planning a dinner.  I am considering a load of laundry.  Stumbling around as if I could remember my name, however, I usually find myself sitting somewhere.  My hands either end up on the keyboard or messing with sudoku.  Sodoku, you ask?  Perhaps you haven't heard of it?  No problem, there is much these days I have either not heard of or have heard but don't know a think about.  Gangnam style?  Dozens of others, and you probably could list of many dozens of viral videos and ideas of which I have neither heard nor have any interest in hearing about... so... please, no need to list.

Sudoku isn't really a game of geniuses.  It is, simply a game of numbers.  It can be complex, or simple.  It seems to draw a certain type to it.  I don't know that I know enough other players and non-players to be able to tell you the difference.  But I have known very bright men and women who don't play and not so bright people who do play.  Actually, I count myself, generally, functionally, as a tiny bit above average.  My peaks may be... genius, maybe.  But that isn't where I live.  Then again you will find mice who can truly be genius.  They just have to be hungry, and lucky.

In any case, up to this point, I have been avoiding a couple of things with the game.  With both paper, and usually electronic, versions of the game (now), you can write numbers in the boxes, in small print, in order to figure some things out.  I have figured out even the more complex puzzles without doing so.  I have also avoided... studying techniques.  Why?  Because it's a *u@(#$& game!  And yet, here I am, on the verge of... studying.  Why?  I don't know that!  I suppose I want to learn to solve more of the problems.

My averages?  The game I play tracks all players.  I hadn't been playing the more difficult levels for some time prior to this new game, so... I started out 30% faster than the average player.  I have hit as high as 95% faster than the average player.  The fastest I have completed a puzzle, on my phablet, is 40 seconds.  I am faster with paper ones.  Of course... who is playing is... always the question.  The game is self-selecting, as a general rule, to those interested in the game.  But that doesn't mean 10k 3rd graders can't be the competition on any give day, either.  Probably the days I run slower by average?  Bleh.  Kids!  :) 

Yea, I decided to dig in though.  Just looking over techniques.  And bothering to mess with filling in the numbers and further looking for patterns.  I am no sure if any are unsolvable.  I am sure there are some.  Not sure if those are put out though, but.... who knows.  Just sharing a bit as I tinker.

Hmm, that might be part of it.

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During the haiku contest, I was reminded of high diving escapades.  I know before I scampered up that ladder, and over that edge, I spoke with people who did it regularly.  I was in a swim club and we had high-divers.  They were all older, highschool aged.  They didn't like dealing with "kids" much.  I think I was in 4th grade (but much larger than most).  But if you could approach them on a topic that made them feel superior, they would often spill the beans.  I wanted to know about high diving.  I learned that complimenting them on a particularly good dive, with possible commentary on why the dive was good so as not to seem like a mere fanboy, netted me easier access to their knowledge.  Why go through all that trouble to get information?  Simple.  My curiosity and my fear were in a tussle.

My curiosity was trying to use logic, or some form of it, or simple knowledge, to overcome my fear.  No, I didn't understand it back then.  Even now, sometimes, I don't see what technique is being used in the moment, if there are reasons for even that, which I do understand.  Essentially, when attacking a problem, a dozen methods are employed at a time, perhaps, like keys being tried on an unfamiliar lock.  Which one works, or at least gets the tumblers to tumble a bit... then go with that one, or a group of them, refining on the way, in order to gain access.  Can't know which one will work, so don't know which one is being used rightly until the lock starts to give.

Fear?  Yes.  Many of the things I have done in life, and still do, test the edges of my world.  My native instinct is fear.  Snow shoeing, with a bad heart, in the mountains, in freezing cold?  Well...  It is going to happen.  This year?  Probably, but maybe not.  Medicines are kicking my butt.  But I do have the tools, access to the mountains, and the will.  When the body wakes up, it will find it's way out there.  Could be fatal but it will be fun right up to death.  It's how I roll.  I almost don't have a choice.  And yet, I will have to overcome that native fear, as well.  Urhm, actually, I've already started.... by communicating with someone else who does that, and has been to at least one edge herself. 

The thing is, with diving, with white-water rafting, with climbing, with camping, with high diving... there are... drawbacks.  There is discomfort.  There are moments of sheer terror.  And so it is with much of life.  What I have noted, after thinking about the comments in the haiku thread, and thinking further, is that people don't want to talk about the bad.  Oh, they will give warnings, regarding technique, particular dangers, and some other things.  Often they do this very generally, not in a personal way.  Diving always hurt the top of my head, a little to a lot depending on how high and how often I did it.  And I did learn.  But even then, in the group who did the activity, none ever spoke about the fact that it will always hurt.

My problem, in civil society, is that I do talk about it.  Some do not wish me to tell secrets of the trade.  Some think that makes me weak, or a fool to pursue what can, and does, hurt, even if in pursuit of higher goals and mastery.  For my part, I just don't like leading people astray.  It isn't a brag, nor self-deprecation, to my mind, on my part, to tell the truth.  I merely suggest how I see things, and what my personal experience is or was, and I say it like I see it.  Much as with the risks involved with having a child.  That is as close as a woman gets to death from a natural course of her life.  I won't lie.  I won't say don't worry.  I also won't suggest against it.

I get hit on all sides.  I don't care.  I won't lie, I won't devalue the sacrifices and potential risks, I won't lead anyone astray.  They should know the risks and take them or not.  The rewards, for what has been successful, and some of what wasn't, have been worth the effort.  On the notion of birth?  My mind says no.  But I am no longer just my mind.  With faith?  Bowing to, if not understanding or liking, God's will?  Yes.  But I do have fear.  And I give that to God.  Should the opportunity present itself, I will forge ahead, with snow shoes, on a high dive (or a ridge on a lake), or with marriage and children.  But I won't do it ignorantly.  Ignorance is bliss until it is crippling horror.  Horror is either your friend, known, kept close, or it will rip the soul right out of you and spiral you straight to hell.  Know it, don't have to love it.  Don't let it sneak up on you.

I do understand why some things aren't appreciated.  I simply suggest if things hurt too much, don't play with them.  If you do play with them, understand they are going to hurt.  Then again, if I can be a party to someone's growth, and dealing with pain, I will do that.  Go ahead, yell, scream, rage.  Feel it in your bones, get it out.  I can handle it if I can see why.  I don't even need the particulars, unless you see fit to share.  I won't judge, or even mind, unless you are attacking me.  But I will write what I do.  Bugs ya?  Imagine living it.  No sympathy for the ignorant, but their is empathy for those who have lost some part of the game of life.

A little rough, again.

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The increased dose is getting to me finally.  It slowly crept up on me.  The feeling must be like a wildebeest going down under the weight of lions.  I felt the swats of the lions, and an occasional weight from one in this last week.  Now I feel the weight of several and weakness from 'blood loss'.  On the good side, with my new found partner being called in, I don't think I will go all the way down or out as I used to do.  And I think I am nearing the nadir.  At least if my strength holds. 

My function and interactability, as far as the world goes, is pretty much nil.  There is blogging, food when I can find it or when it is brought, assuming I can eat, and accidental stuff that can just happen.  I will try to push through, as well, but that doesn't always work as well as I would want it.  I still think, sometimes, that it is just laziness.  But then I realize, when you feel like you are under several atmospheres, with less than optimal oxygen, and you can't feel much to include hunger, then things aren't normal.  My reactions and actions can't be relied upon.  I have the thermostat set at 80 and can be cold sometimes.  Sleep is more like nothing than restful.  Yeah, not really lazy, I guess.  Though that can play a part, even so!  And I watch for it, fight that all on it's own, if I can.

Even so, this weekend, after this medset is empty, I plan on refilling with the final higher dose.  I think I am close enough, and relatively well enough, to push on through.  The higher dose will keep me down, or tamp me back down if I rise by then, but... I will be over this crush sooner.  I just want to get through this long hard dark tunnel.  Since September, mind you.  My bad, my mistake, a heavy price.  I won't do that again. 

I did, willfully, stall about going back on medicines, as well.  I had reasons, of course, none of which panned out in any case.  So...  But some of my stalling was simple fear as the possible problems with going back on them.  Some of it was a willfulness.  An anger at the costs of taking medicine.  It wasn't just one thing.  I got my cake though, several months without medicine.  It just wasn't any better than not having cake!  There was no dessert to be enjoyed!  Oh well, live and learn.

I am still hoping to get dishes and some laundry started.  Not... right this minute.  I'm a bit rough and tumbled as I wake this morning.  Hmm, feed the girls right away though.  Well, after this post, and in a bit.  An hour or two.  Yeah.  Ugh.  Later.

Does anyone else almost wish they could cheat?

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It was rampant in college.  From homework to quizzes and tests.  I saw it everywhere.  And because of my native abilities, I was... offered a spot.  No thanks.  With women, the opening was there.  In my early days, women simply turned a blind eye.  Some even offered a wink and a nod.  But it just doesn't work well.  Not as laws and morals stand.  Messy.  In Jewish times, I would have had several wives.  It's just the way things are.  But it doesn't work in these times, with my faith, as I know things.  Even judging haiku.

Not cheating makes things much more difficult.  It means you have to choose, then you have to deal with the consequence of your choices.  Instead of an A or A+, I might have to deal with a B+, maybe even a C+.  But I know I did the work, earned the grade, hit the books.  I know what I got I earned.  And, with haiku even...  I know I thought things through.  I even agonize over the choice.  I could just do a random, or go with him or her for reasons other than what I know to be right in my mind.  It doesn't even mean my judging would stand up in a court of law, but I am not in a court of law.  Oh, no worries, I love foam.  That's not what I mean.  It's just... didn't she just win recently?  I was thinking so.  But I couldn't let that sway my decision.  Only if someone is ill, or requests not to be judged.  I have to go by the work and my senses of things.

I am sure, for a while, at times, cheating is easier.  And, I know, in academia, that I am cheated against by the system itself.  As a conservative, and powerful one (in their blind eyes albeit), I am treated as an enemy.  I have had my grades sabotaged.  I have had instructors and professors incorrectly lower my grades, or grade more harshly.  That is on them.  It doesn't matter what the whole rest of the world does.  Noah was a prime example of not just giving in.  And, yes, God knows if not another soul does.

Fact is, I live not just as if God knows.  I actively include Him in my decisions as well as I am able.  No, He has never helped me on a test.  But He has been there, and He has been asked for calm nerves while I have answered some of the most arcane mathematical questions you might believe could be asked.  A deep theory question on a calculus II test?  My tutor was a bit surprised himself.  That was graduate level theory.  He was pleased with how well I answered it, and a bit surprised I got that far into it, after the fact.  I just barely made it through two thirds of that particular problem... correctly anyway.  Did good after the mistake.  Then again he took an hour on it himself.  Gah!  Anyway...  I leave room for God, right in there, right in life.  I'll bet even my math classes bore Him, if that is possible, though.  :p  He knows some serious math-fu!

Just... thinking, grumbling, and rumbling as I slow the boat down to prepare for bed.  I wasn't able to do much today.  I just didn't have anything going.  Tomorrow I hope to get the last of the dishes set to a soak, do a load or two of dishes, and hit the kitchen like a hurricane.  I might really be able to do it.  Every other day, unless I have someone helping, or even directing.  At least I know my limits, if sometimes I can push them.

Good night.

What the???

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I saw a woman recently.  One I sort of know.  Usually a happy hello and goodby.  But the look on her face this last time?  I don't know if she reads here or not.  If so, I have to wonder... did she read something and not understand or did she understand perfectly?  Not that it matters, one way or the other.  Still...  I enjoyed.  Oh yes, I did.  Why did I enjoy?  I don't know.  I suppose the same reason that jumping from perfectly good airplanes sounds good, hiking in the winter seems reasonable, and driving fast is so pleasurable.  Obviously, it's because women are crazy.

Haiku contests all must come to a close.

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With an end, a beginning.  Cycles.  Music.  Poetry.  All things really.  More so this set.  A phoenix.  The contestants doing their best.  Competing, sometimes generously, sometimes not.  Difficult to know, though probably a bit of both for most.  Hungry.  Not even competitive just with each other.  Trying to express what they see in your minds the best that you can, within the limits... or even trying to find a way beyond, or over, the edge.  Serious stuff.

Haiku Monday - Edge(s)

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We have all seen them, experienced the limits to the realms of the real, legal, possible.  Law, time, space, the mind, and death, among others, are said to be solid stops.  Some have traveled over those edges.  Some have come back.  I do not believe any of the edges, or limits, are what they appear.  What is sanity but a safe haven limited to only the realm of the highly probable, visible, knowable?  I would suggest faith is proof that most do not believe merely in the highly probable.  If most keep faith in a little drawer, in their minds and homes, only to be released if and when it is convenient or when there is no other seeming hope.  Too late, too late!

Tell me do, tell me true,
tell me tell me in haiku,
mirror mirror that is my brother - sister - self.

Oh, but that wasn't haiku, or even all that good.  Aye.

in the madness ~ time
past death, over dimension
through the known ~ glimpses

Some fodder for your task.  Perhaps sustenance, a rope to keep you grounded in there and perhaps as a trail back. The rules are as simple or complex as you should choose, with the limits of three lines, preferably 5-7-5 as a syllable count unless you see something that fits better but isn't within the rules.  Add a seasonal word to highlight a time, season, or notion.  Add that twist with word or punctuation mark.  Dare, if you wish.  The contest is about daring.  Daring to do, to believe, sometimes just to impossibly be.  Understand, not all dares are worth the risk.  Then again, who would have chosen life if we knew the worst of things up front, in spite of the fact that we can't, now, let go?  Pleasant thoughts and well wishes in your endeavor.

Down late up late.

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No, I haven't done all THAT much.  Thing is it doesn't take much and I am still getting used to the new higher dose of medicine.  I am getting work done.  Not as fast as I had hoped and at some cost to 'balance'.  So be it.  I will keep up the effort as well as I am able.  The contest?  Right.  Actually I have the thing almost laid out.  No music, yet, but there has been effort.  I am just not finding what I... need... for it.  Like a jeweler, I try to crown my pieces with just the right gems.  It is sometimes a Herculean effort, sometimes the pieces fall from the tree like ripe fruit.

I missed getting in to town to see my friend this weekend.  I completely lost track.  As well, I missed getting us in for our haircuts!  I can't understand why my calendar didn't warn me, or if it did how I missed it.  But... one way or another, I didn't see.  Gah!  I'll have to set up another appointment and figure out how to get into town, as an aside.  I'm just not working well with the flesh, and got a little distracted with home stuff and the contest maybe.  I'm a baaaad boy.  True, that.  But I am trying.

Every morning, lately, feels like I'm waking from a hangover.  Between the higher dose, fresh insulin, and ongoing efforts, I am pushing this canoe through the water with rockets, and paying for it.  Yeah, things aren't going fast but it is a gigantic canoe I'm pushing, mind you.  And the water is more like molasses.  I ought to be a little careful.  Meh...  *lights another rocket*

Later!

Dishes, a shower, cat litter, and who knows what else.

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The day isn't exactly young, but it's not dead yet either.  Not only did I wash the dishes, pots, and roaster that were in the cue, I rinsed, dried, and put them away.  Then a shower.  I decided to feed the girls, but tended their litter first.  What next? 

I am hoping to grab every dish, spoon, fork, and whatever else might yet need washing and put it all in the wash bin.  If I can keep on it, I might even finish that, or half finish it, yet tonight.  Then a load of wash in the washer.  That is as much as I suspect I will get to.  Then again, little things might be done along the way.  Why?  Because I want to?  No.  Because I can. 

The goal is to have the kitchen done in a few days, and the bathroom.  Actually, I might clean the bathroom tonight while I am at it.  It will need a touch up before Saturday.  It's nice to have the majority of it out of the way.  If all goes as planned, I should be well into my bedroom by this weekend, if not done with it as well.  I may need to sleep in the spare bedroom while I rip my bedroom apart, but that isn't too much of a problem.  It is in prime condition as I cleaned up after my mother headed home.  Dusty, probably.  But dusty isn't a problem for me.  It just clears the sinuses until I am used to it or it gets aired out.  All good.  Gee it's good to be king!

Yeah...  How about a cup of coffee.  Hey!  Wait... I'm alone.  Save for the girls.  But they are more like long-time women.  Don't listen anymore.  :)  Later.

I've seen things.

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No matter what we do, think, feel...  No matter what we try, what happens, what we dream...  Reality just is.  We can choose to attempt to accept it.  We can try to ignore it.  We can try to change it.  It just is.  It works of it's own accord.  At best we can learn just enough to jump through it's hoops when those hoops exists, and when presented, for as long as we can while they exist in order to make just enough to survive and perhaps a bit more.  Do you want to see an example of the black box of reality?  Oh, no worries, it isn't too scary.  Though... the idea is.  You can hear the hum.  Or is that just for those who can hear?  Some of the music is too long, or short, to make sense of.  But I do believe it is all music, and... actually... all one song.

Hmm, well?

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Yeah, sort of getting beat up by the increase in medication.  Even so, disregarding my first solo attempt at getting back on medicine, and far too fast, I am still going on it pretty quickly, comparatively.  The first time I worked up to this level of medicine it literally took a year and possibly change.  So... two to three months, so far, isn't bad.  I'm not fully titrated up, but that is in the works and will probably work.  I am actually calling it done.  A little slower, a lot less pain and trouble, I'll say that.  I can concentrate and function no better than last time.  But Durden is helping, as I haven't gone completely underground.  I have merely retreated to within my mind, but awake.  Hard stuff.  It makes Everclear seem mild and I would know, if more from the distant past.

I did get dishes going, started on the cat litter boxes, and cleaned the coffee pot.  While not much, it was a start.  Not as much as I had hoped, more than I had honestly expected.  I am my own handler now.  I lay out more than is possible for myself, doubting the bastard will get to any of it.  :p  Today is a new day, new plans, added goals.  Finishing the cat litter, finishing the dishes I put in, a shower, then the rest of the dishes and some laundry.  We will see what we see.  If I can get to those things, tomorrow will see a complete tear-down and reset of the kitchen.  As soon as that is done, then some bedroom work.  Yeah, yeah.  And if I get all that?  Then I need to set up my shop in the garage, including finding a heater for out there, so that I can get to work on the plumbing.  Bleh.  But... there it is.  Now, if I can just stay awake in the middle of winter and deal with the side-effects of medicines.

Hey, I'm trying.  I am honestly doing better than could probably be expected as is.  Anything over that is gold.  Fools gold, maybe.  But it's what I've got.  Later.

Better.

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Can't say why.  Just that whatever was troubling has lifted just a bit.  I am going to try to get some work done.  The kitchen, bathroom, and dishes first.  Perhaps some laundry.  I haven't completely crashed the kitchen, if it isn't exactly in great shape.  My goal is to get these things in really good shape as quickly as possible, then hit them again, and then move on to some other areas.  The reward?  A home cooked meal if I make some solid headway.  Nothing fancy for the meal, just something I really like.  I'll put some items together as I begin the process.

A shower wouldn't be a bad start though.  Kicking off the start of the week clean.  Hmm, and maybe a pot of coffee.  I used the very last of the very old and not favored coffee.  I just hate to waste anything.  Today I can make a fresh pot of my preferred brand, grinding fresh from very fresh beans.  Oh, and the cat litter boxes will get squared away.  I've been doing okay with those.  I just need to check to see if a complete change is in order.  I fed the girls a bit extra, over Christmas.  Which is fine... sharing the feast and all.  But now I have some girls who think feast days are every day!  Nope.  They are so good at begging though, and have learned how to tag-team beg.  Nope!  I can only imagine how good kids are at it.  Wait, no... I can remember.  My brother and myself were... pretty good at it too.  No!  Okay, but can we?  No!  Can I?  No!  What about me?  No!  Are you sure...  *sigh*  No.  Poor woman, had little chance, sometimes.

Well I best get to it.  I can't think all that well quite yet, but I am thinking in a simple fashion.  That might be enough.  Later.

Ah, well, there was that, and that, and this, and...

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After my last visit, medicines were raised.  Essentially this is the final step, if it is being taken as a two step.  Where, pray tell, is the music?  Ah, there we go.  Yes, indeed, dancing in the dark.

Heat was one thing.  When I raise medicines my need for warmth is increased, in the winter anyway.  I can handle the cold well, still.  It's an odd thing.  I can answer the door barefooted but can't handle the thermostat at lower temps as a regular thing.  So I cranked the heat.  Why I need it I can't say.  I just, often, do.  Then again, I am often more susceptible to heat as well.  Basically, I become more fragile.  These are potent little pills, at least for me.  I seem to be unusual in this.  The docs don't understand it.  On the good side, I think they are starting to believe me as I am coming to believe them, if both of us are still just a bit suspicious.  We come from different places and experiences.  It is simply difficult to believe what is contrary to what you have known.

Food production fell off as well.  I have been doing okay, the last few days, at forcing some food down my gullet.  Food just doesn't taste good.  There is hunger, from time to time, but in a very dissociated sense.  The pains of hunger are no more real than the pains from a love long lost.  It is just another ghost of the mind more than a distraction of flesh.  Actually, all things are of the mind, and almost as if not of my mind.  Pains are all forms of memories, which is why it took so long to realize I needed more heat.  I am getting better at realizing what is what and translocating a psychic seeming pain to fleshly care.  It's still a bit of a trick, but.  Oh, and I realized I had used the insulin well beyond the recommended time.  It might have become too weak, so I opened another bottle.  That might explain why my numbers were so off.

I am doing what I can do, as I can do it.  I figure though, in a month, I may be back on my feet, mostly.  At this pace.  Physical seeming pains, I think, are starting as of today.  Difficult to keep it all together.  There is not much to be done for these pains.  It has something to do with lowering blood pressure, I think.  And, right now anyway, they are distant echoes of the mind as I suggested.  But being back on track a bit I am realizing what they are.  Hopefully this, like the last time but unlike the time before, will be shorter lived and less severe since I am increasing medicines more slowly. 

That is... what is happening.  Now that I am aware, a bit, and pushing to care for the little things, I am a bit more hopeful to put things right.  Heck, I haven't even played games for a month or more.  I just couldn't focus.  The "reals" of life just haven't made sense.  Simple tactile senses are muted, as are wants and interests and tastes, of all sorts.  Wants, needs, and such...  Well, I have regained some focus, so.  How can you forget to play game?  *grin*  Must not be too addicted.

Have a great day!  Oh, it is a great day here.  Even with all the foibles, that I am back on some sort of track is a very good thing.  Later.

Something is off.

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I can't tell you what is wrong, only that something is just off.  It's big, whatever it is.  No pain, sleep is okay but weird in that when I sleep can shift by half a day, in either direction, without notice or needlework.  At least it doesn't mess me up, or on top of the feeling that something big is messed up.  Hmm, I might have figured it out.  Will know soon.  Yeah, I'm on it, as usual.

Yesterday I woke, appropriately... I think... given bedtime.  This morning I was up at three moon beams and two clouds past 6:00.  Again, an appropriate waking time given my bedtime, if for a somewhat shorter sleep cycle.  Waking has been simple, but muted by that big weirdness that is infecting my life.  The sensation is akin to pain responses, but covering my whole body.  And so flooded with the natural pain killers that little else can be felt.  And yet I am almost absolutely certain there isn't even a hidden pain, or many pains, below my conscious awareness as can sometimes be the case.  Usually I have some idea that there is a hidden pain, unless other issues are further suppressing my ability to simply be conscious.  That isn't the case.

Odd as it might seem, this is one of the key features of my ability to survive.  Pain, felt raw and open, can kill all by itself.  It can also make you want to consciously die.  And should you be able to survive the pain itself, and overcome the call to death from it, your ability to function so as to actually live, extricate yourself from the situation, survive, is greatly degraded by pain.  This ability, alone, has saved my butt more times than I can count.  Just that.

Some people are social.  They work in groups.  They work together.  Honestly, that is the way of mankind.  It works out best.  Small self-selecting motivated groups are the best, whether as social units, military units, or what have you.  In some cases women fit in, in some cases they don't.  Women aren't warriors, but if properly motivated, they can help with defense.  My guess is, though, given the vagaries and hardness of life, women have been more dangerous to a military unit than helpful, or they would already have been a part of the military without the use of force to try to make it so.  Dogs?  Okay.  Women?  No.  Even cavemen knew this.  Not the point, mind you, just... delineating some things.

I, however, am not people.  Whether genetic or simply fated, where I walk others shouldn't.  Not when I am there, not with me, maybe not ever.  It isn't, as I once thought, because I am better, or even worse as was also posited.  It is merely fated, I think, now.  It isn't my strength, resilience, smarts, or anything of the sort.  It isn't even guaranteed the next time I go out that I will return, save that until I am released, I will continue to... walk a line others can't.  Some people prep.  Heck, I prep.  I like to be prepared.  But I know that where I go, and how things turn out, there is no way to prep.  I am seemingly dropped naked and half asleep into the middle of hell with the suggestion that I ought to get out.  Hrmm, asks I.  Yeah, just get out, I am told.  How?  I... I don't know THAT... comes the reply.  Then a cheery, Good luck, see you at the gates!  Really.  Is my life training?  I shudder to think what such training would logically lead toward.

Some people think I am grumpy.

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I'm not, really.  Sure, I come down hard on things.  Yeah, I don't much care for fashion, modern femininity or modernism pretty much, or lots of other things.  While I bark, I truly don't bite.  I warn so that one doesn't get bitten, actually.  There is a difference.  Oh yes there is.

Just can't get going.

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I haven't gotten to the snow, I haven't called my friend.  I haven't done much.  No focus.  News, blogs, drifting.  That may be it for today.

While drifting, I did notice a story that supports what I had already concluded, and long ago.  Back when I owned my first Xterra.  Now?  While the story is about Ford, I promise you that if one auto manufacturer is doing it, they all are.  Here is the story.  Basically, if you have a vehicle that is, what, less than 10 years old?  At the very least the company who manufactured that vehicle knows where it is at all times.  How much of this information is passed to the government, pick an agency?  How much of the data is hacked out, how many nosy people, criminals, or even family and friends, can use the device just as easily as the manufacturers?

Options?  Jamming.  It might or might not be legal where you are.  You will need to not just jam gps, but also discrete transmissions, most likely.  I doubt if the device in your vehicle is full on.  Most likely small packets are sent at specific times.  And, yes, the government had to know.  They sell bandwidths and such, govern them.  Companies wouldn't just do that without at the very least asking/telling.  As to finding and eliminating the devices?  It might be possible.  It wouldn't surprise me if they have backups though.  Further, every time you go into the shop, they might simply reinstall, or add a different device.  Further, it might be so integrated that it can't be isolated, or without causing damage.  I'm going to be doing some digging.

If I have to fly blind, I like them to fly blind.  I don't think they like those odds, but...  I do.  If you don't mind, go ahead.  Hmm... I wonder what sort of a system would kill my phone's ability to communicate my location, or do it accurately, including tower mislocations?  I do have some homework to do.  Oh?  And don't think phones and cars are the only offenders.  Anything you have that is electronic, some things that aren't, are spotting you for them.  Figure it out folks.

What to do.

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I had an appointment yesterday.  However, I stepped out the door to head out and found myself in four to six inches of snow.  Well, I could drive through that.  The street looked clean and there was plenty of traffic.  But I looked around.  It was snowing like mad.  Timing?  Even with extra time, between road conditions and other drivers, I just wasn't sure.  Beyond, if it continued to snow like this, more so if even a mild wind picked up, I would end up spending the night in SLC.  As cities go, SLC isn't bad.  Seriously.  Size, minorities, stink, and such.  But since the city and Dems who used to run it weren't able to outlaw guns or prevent conceal carry, or even open carry, criminals keep their heads down and stick to their areas.  The thing is, you never know, unless you live there, where those areas are.  And there can be some crossover.  Still, not at all bad for that size of a city.  Thing is, I don't want to spend $100 and change for an ugly 10x10 to stay out of those areas, and then only hopefully.  The V.A. might put me up, but in such weather, that area might be full, so...

Yeah, no.  Then I started to dig out, since I canceled the appointment.  I didn't get far.  The back walks, seven feet from the garage door on the driveway, and the front walk.  I meant to get the snow blower out.  Not sure what happened.  Next I knew, the neighbor boys were working on it.  Gah!  If I hear that I get out there, if at all possible.  I wasn't up to much shoveling, so I got the snow blower out.  It does a passable job, but them helping made it as good of a scoop out as one could hope.  I did a little bit more, scooping, after the using the snow blower, to help clean it up.  I can do some things, sometimes.  Looks like another bit of snow came through or the wind rearranged it.  I may get out and do a bit of clean up.

My friend called.  If I can do some cleanup, I may go on into town.  He has a few things he wants to do, and I have some things.  A meal wouldn't hurt either of our feelings.  And getting out, for him, would probably be fantastic.  Actually, it would be nice for me.  While I got out for the appointment, that isn't, really, like getting out.  That's just driving myself to move so that I might improve my chances at healing.  I may no longer have a great fear of dying, if that isn't the point.  It is more looking for a way to be more active, functional.  It isn't fun, the drive isn't relaxing, the company can be questionable, demanding, even hostile, the setting is a hospital which is unnerving on it's own.  Yeah, not fun.  It's business, all business.  This isn't. 

I am starting to have some... friends... there.  I question everything they believe.  I test their capacities at such.  Personal, social, religious, even professional, I push every button and throw down Doom-sized gauntlets.  Further, they can no longer pass it off as a form of insanity.  I don't know if they are friends, but they aren't passing themselves off as enemies, either.  I don't think they understand.  I am sure they don't agree.  But they don't seem intent on harm.  Some of them.  Trust is earned, both ways, fair enough.

Hey, I best get to things.  I told him I would call around noon.  But I need to handle that snow, then probably take a little downtime, then a shower before heading in.  I better get some things done, quickly.  Later.

Into town and back to a surprise, or two.

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I was amazed at how easy it was to get out.  I was running late, mind you.  But with the appointment being variable (they are kind to us at the heart transplant clinic), I can run a wee late and not be too late.  Then I hit the roads.  I never thought to review the weather.  And I took the pass!  I thought I was going to be seriously late, possibly too late.  It was snowing in the pass.  I was just hoping it wouldn't rain, or that it hadn't rained.  I just went the speed of other vehicles, making sure no one rode my bumper.  Really?  In potentially freezing conditions, people still ride bumpers?  Yes.  A#@$#$2s.  But your dearest Doom has a way of dealing with these people, rain or shine.  And texters?  Talking on the phone in an animated manner?  Eating?  Yep, saw many doing that.  Seriously people?

Never mind.  I kept it together, better than usual.  I simple drove at mid to lower speeds compared with other traffic and whatever would happen would happen.  Oddly, I somehow still made it pretty much on time.  Don't ask me.  On days when I start earlier, a lot earlier, I still only seem to get there a bit earlier.  I just don't understand some things.  Although... I may start timing the things, speed, comparing mileage, and a few other things.  If there is only an half hour difference, with greater stress and expense at the higher speed, I may just relax my way there.  Yeah, I know what they say.  But, true to my convictions, I have to see it, prove it out, and realize it myself.  I really do.  No, I don't believe.  We will see.  By the way, the best scientists aren't the ones who prove what they believe, but disprove it.  The ones who prove what they believe are more likely to have inserted bad assumptions, data, or miscalculations, assuming the whole thing isn't a fraud.  Remember that.  It's okay to be wrong, it is NOT okay to prove out wrong and still not accept it.

I did make it to town on the way back.  I didn't do everything I wanted to do, I forgot what I needed for my bank stop.  I did stop for coffee and tobacco, and added stores.  I'm telling you, I am getting a creepy feeling lately.  It has relaxed a bit, but I still feel like we are walking on ice, or I am.  Something is off.  It's not my mood, it's not my health, it is 'out there'.  Could just be personal, just mine, but I don't think so.  So... I am stocking up, putting some extra supplies up, checking the supplies I have with what I can give to that chore, and just... listening... watching.  Paranoia, if it exists, is no more a bad thing than is pain.  While pain hurts, it lets you know something is wrong, often in time to prevent serious damage.  Paranoia?  If you earned it, and I tell you I have, then it is a sense that should not be ignored.  Women have intuition.  They know that there is more than meets the eye to senses and... understandings.  So to with some men who have had to rely on... an ethereal sense.  A flicker in the 'force'.  Something.  Mine has been buzzing lately.

Oh, and I seem to have won the haiku contest!  It was the first of the set.  It was one I wasn't sure I should put out.  Go figure.  I'll be... thinking on that.  Hopefully up by tomorrow, though it might be Friday.  Unless I am dead.  Then, well...  I already told you, I'm not that lucky!  I get this spooky feeling that God will see me married long before He sees me buried.  'You lucky, lucky, bas....  I dream of being married.'  Never mind.  I do think it all funny, here in flesh... mostly.

The appointment went well.  The lowest we could get my bp was 145/92 or so.  It's not bad, but it's not great either.  I've usually been seeing it in the mid130s/mid80s.  Blood sugar was insanely high.  Then again, I've been sampling my mother's Christmas treats.  Yeah, I'll... eat those up fast.  I know, I know, but they can't be allowed to go to waste!  Hmm, yeah.  Oh, and my snow shoes arrived today!  As soon as I can, I want to try them out.  I'm not sure we have enough snow here in the valley, really.  So I may go to one of the camp ground parking spots.  The grounds themselves will be closed, basically, but they are walk in.  Usually they clear the parking spaces near the road, as snow transfer spots and vehicle breakdown areas.  From what I have seen.  Not all of them, but enough to get me into some snow walking areas.  I may also check for snow shoe areas, looking specifically for areas that are less prone to having avalanches.  Oh... I'd survive it.  It's just... those things are always a bit messy and disconcerting.  One more near death tale for you to hear about ad nauseam as well.  :p

Oh, and it isn't just my new doc that reads here.  I thought the others did too, but yeah.  Now I know.  *sniff... sniff, sniff*  Yes I do. 

Later.

Awake, mostly.

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I did get to sleep.  A little rough at first.  Just getting to sleep was the problem.  When it hit I can't say, only that when it finally hit it was like being hit by a train at speed.  I set the alarm for 4:00, hoping that... something would work right.  I woke just a bit after 3:00, on my own.  I've been tinkering this morning, with the extra time.  I could still overshoot the aim but I think I will do fine.

I suppose it is cold out, but no more than usual after thinking things over.  While I am having some problems, I did see what could be the problem.  This last Monday is known for being the most depressing Monday of the year.  I used to laugh at such notions, as I often don't fit them.  In this case I think it may be correct.  The sun, even when it puts in an appearance, doesn't seem to do it for long or do it strongly.  As such, we go through sun withdrawals, culminating in a form of depression.  That's just the way it is.  Add in that I am messing with medicine and, well, it's just the way things have to be for a while.

I hope to get to the various shops this afternoon or evening.  Who knows though.  Maybe tomorrow, if not... or the day after, or the day after that, or... next Sunday, or Wednesday, or... sometime soon.  Hmm?  Yeah, maybe a shower.  Those have been happening much more regularly.  It is sort of funny though.  When I have had a woman in my life, a lot more care is taken, and given.  It makes short separations enjoyable though.  A week off a year?  Scrunge days?  Yeah.  It's not that a woman demands these things so much as that my body responds to her, and my my mind wants certain things to be a certain way.  Slavery to a notion.  Not a bad thing, mind you.  I have to guess women go through it from their own side.

Well, later. 

Hmm?

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Dinner was perfect.  Eggs, bacon, cheese, on croissants.  Yeah, why I didn't think of it?  Hmm, never mind.  But it was perfect.  Some, most, food is just too hard.  Eggs are like protein oatmeal... or something.  Then foam stopped by and offered a notion.  Sometimes it works, sometimes not.  Nothing wrong with the notion.  It just wasn't quite hitting the spot.  However, it did start me on a search.

Gah!

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Sleep isn't too off.  The last few nights I couldn't sleep until very late.  But then I got in a reasonable amount of rest.  Food has been skimpy, but food is coming in and I have eaten the last few nights.  Medicine is going down rightly.  I feel a bit chill, even with the furnace cranked, but... not miserably cold.  And... I do handle the cold when I go out into it.  But...

I can't seem to write.  Comments, posts here, and such, just come out wrong.  I erased one because, while I believe what it said, generally, was good, the grammar and such was messed up.  I have tried to write a couple of posts today.  And while I got the grammar, after some effort, to within tolerances... I couldn't keep on track with the ideas.  Worse than usual, if that is one of your issues here, as a reader.  Much worse.

I have some appointments coming up.  I need to get to the store.  I have a lot of things here at home to do, on the back burners.  Bleh.  I have to be able to untangle myself from the spider webs before I can move though.  I'll figure something out before long.

Later.

What I ate isn't moving.  I mean... a huge lump in my stomach.  Nothing is working well.  Not sure what is wrong.  I'll try to eat dinner when it arrives.  Maybe that will push it all through.  Bleh.

Just can't dig out.

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It has been rough.  Not the worst of times.  There is no pain.  But there is very little of anything.  The last few nights I could not sleep until very early in the morning, 2:00 and 4:00, give or take.  I did make it to town Sunday, after a week of 'effort'.  The coffee shop wasn't open and there are a few other things I failed to purchase due to the day and time that I was able to drive in.

I have to appointments coming up, back to back.  If I can't make it to town before those, there is a chance on the way to or from one of those I might make it to the stores.  It's simply rough.  No focus, really.  I was surprised how well I could celebrate.  Any kind of a schedule would have been useless, mind you.  Thursday at 15:00?  Monday at 8:00?  Not going to happen.  Moments carved out of a glacier, more by chance and function than will, as to when or how various things happened.  I am a bit worried about making it to the appointments.  I am going to focus and do my best with those.

I won't say I am sleepy.  I just don't have a way to focus.  Hmm, but I do have a bit of food, from shopping.  Apples and pears, salami and cheese, milk and some other things.  But even getting to these things means pushing through the cobwebs.  Hunger, sometimes?  Check.  But what does that mean in the shadows of the mind?  Something about flesh.  Sometimes food is eaten, sometimes it is forgotten with everything else that just went through the mind.  Bah, I'm going to force a little bit of food down, somehow.  And, while I am pretty much out of coffee, I did buy some soda for a quick caffeine fix.  It's not as functional, but it does keep the headaches at bay.  Headaches are merely distractions, stronger or weaker.  Pain isn't the problem, it's the thinking of the pain that can be.

Never mind, just grumbling as I try to lay claim to the day, get showered and to town, and figure some of my life out.  At least it was a good Christmas.  No complaints there.  Now to carry that good a little farther.  Or take a nap?  Maybe I am still tired.  :p

Later.

Haiku Monday - Aspiration/Aspire

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CoreyJo is up with the contest.  I... wrote a couple, but decided not to present them, not yet.  I am tired, I am not sure they fit, I am in a slightly dark mood.  I will put them here and see what y'all think.  And... I will consider myself.  I wonder if... perhaps I am too dark?

I am told to quit

I am told I should face facts

I won't sleep 'til dead

for all the things wrong

my guilt, shame, mistakes, heartache

bearable for love

the wind in my hair

just impossibilities

walk through walls daily

I have been lucky enough to meet the finest teacher.

The Twelfth Day of Christmas.

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I have had the best Christmas, as a holy holiday, that I have ever enjoyed.  I didn't worry about doing this, or that.  No lights, candles, or decorations, if I would like to figure some of these things out, in time.  Presents went out, but were sent early and arrived before Christmas day, mostly.  Gifts, given and received, weren't at the core, or really were more of a dressing for celebration, in the spirit of Christmas.  It was about prayer, thanksgiving, and dealing with real and ordinary life but with the spirit of Christmas behind the days, with a greater emphasis from that as to how to deal with things.  One last day for spiritual observation.

Difficult?  In a way.  Moods, hunger, needs, wants, and such all tried to crowd in.  And they did, but they always will.  Whether you celebrate a day, two, or twelve, standard daily life will always intrude.  Unless... you realize that the intrusion of "real life"... isn't an intrusion at all.  We celebrate a birth for Christmas.  How much more "intrusive" can life get?!?  It did take a few days to understand this, mind you.  I am just a student in this area, and not the brightest of them.  But it did come to me, and earlier on.  Life is not an intrusion.  It is as much a part of the holy as it is a part of any other time in our lives.  I saw this in church, at one time.  And now in holy days.  I am learning.

Remembering to pray, to consider, and often, on each day, was not as difficult as I had supposed.  I had thought, with my mind often adrift as medicines, or weather, or health waver, that I might forget, or get lost in the world, or such.  It didn't actually end up difficult, in one sense.  My mind would and did come back to considerations of love, what God, and Christ, and the Holy Spirit, mean to me.  What my duties are, responsibilities, and what I expect in return.  God doesn't take without giving.  If you enter any contract with God, you can't lose.  Think of it in human terms, perhaps.  He is like a wealthy father.  If he wishes to buy something, he always pays more than it is worth.  If he wishes to trade something, you always come out ahead.  It might not always seem like it, but the truth is there.  And more?  While you may dearly love that parcel of land or animal, in buying it from you, somehow, it really does work out to your benefit on top of the immediate gains.  Only, instead of merely of a secular order, His transactions cover everything from financial to spiritual and are everlasting beyond even the grave.  No, prayer and consideration was not a difficulty.

I am weary.  I was not quite ready for it to be this much of a marathon event.  Next year I will have a better idea of what I am dealing with.  But weariness, in some cases, is a very good thing.  I will have eaten of the Spirit of Christmas enough to last me the year.  Easter, actually, will be a longer holy holiday as well, I now believe.  While I can't always, and might not always, celebrate these things in an official manner, for illness and other considerations, I cannot ignore them.  Here, at home, is what I have.  And so I will make room.  Even so, considering the reason, and sacrifices involved, what I offer is small, humble, even a bit begrudging... if they stopped there.  Actually no matter where they start or stop, I can't offer enough thanks.  But to keep going what I start in these times is the key.  And, so I shall endeavor. 

Merry Christmas.

The Eleventh Day of Christmas!

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A wonderful morning.  Medicine is happening as roughly as possible, but it is happening.  I have been a bit shy on food.  Hungry as a bear and yet picky somehow.  I just can't get it all right.  I can't seem to be able to get to town, either.  Ah, but it's the... thought that counts?  And, for the most part, my days of late have been pretty good.  On toward bedtime and mood and flesh crash.  Food might help, but I won't even swear to that.  Sometimes what is just is what is.

I am hoping to get to town today.  That hope is a carry over from... days, perhaps a week ago, perhaps more?  I just can't remember and I don't have it in me to read back and see.  It's in there somewhere.  My memory, at this time in my life, is actually rather good, usually.  Even in times like what I am experiencing, the memory is good... in that it is actually there.  It is a matter of being awake and able enough to focus the energy to retrieve it.  Well, and even if the memory is there, and good, it doesn't always connect well with other memories.  Rather than having a band of connected memories, I have a bunch of separate strands of memory, so playing through goals, wants, needs, and events, such as we place in our mind, I only get one of those at a time.  It is an improvement.  A vast improvement.  It simply isn't what I have known or what I hope is the final product.

A shower, I hope, shortly.  Then to town.  The grocery store then some fast food.  I will pick up some soda, splenda based, as the coffee shop isn't open for the coffee I know to be good.  Oh, there are other "good" coffees available, usually too acidic for my ability to consume regularly.  I've tried a number of them for such situations.  Terrible.  And pre-ground?  I know, a lot of people live on that stuff.  I wish I could.  Tastes like tea to me.  While I like tea, I like it chilled and with a slightly different flavor profile.  Picky?  Well... perhaps.  But when picky is based on function of need... it is what it is.  If I can't or won't use it, then why buy it?  I've just wasted money.  I simply don't have the money to waste.  Best to buy what I will use, as finicky as that makes me seem, innit?

Prayers, though, are ongoing.  Those happen in spots of psychic clarity and sometimes just... when it happens even when clarity isn't to be found.  My mind knows what I wish and does it's best, along with my conscious will.  Between the two I have been having a fine and prayerful Christmas.  In a way, I suppose, one could say this, the Eleventh Day, is Christmas Eve.  But it is not.  A second Christmas Eve, if anything, but I even discount that.  Merry Christmas.