Done, mostly.

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It's no fun to want to sleep, to need to go to bed, but to have a chore hanging over my head.  That with a body that just can't focus or work.  Four hours is what it took, and I couldn't even deal with the cardboard, any of it.  I had to surrender to the fact that if I held out for that I wouldn't get anything done.  Surrender is not easy.  Cutting losses, even as seemingly small as this is tough.  I suppose my efforts are small, but as with the widow's mite, it's all I've got.  I put out everything I had just to do the measly little bit I did.  Now, at least, I can go to bed. 

It hurts, I am sore, I am weakened by the effort, I am wearied because of staying up.  I am worried about my schedule.  As with the cardboard, I suppose I will simply have to cut my losses.  Surrender, again.  Bleh.  Good night.

I made it to bed.

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Couldn't sleep.  I need to get the trash and recycling collected and out.  It just sat there, on my mind.  And yet I cannot seem to just do it.  Not in one fell swoop.  I've collected from in here and the living room, mostly.  I've pulled the trash.  I need to add some of the bags of leaves as well.  I also need to, after seeing how much room in the recycling, figure out how many of the torn-down box cardboard I can fit in.  If there is extra room, I would like to tear down more boxes.  I'm simply having trouble.  I can't sleep but I can't seem to work.  Bits and pieces.  I made a cup of coffee, and another pot of coffee.  It's just one of those nights.

I simply can't pull myself together.  Nothing is working, save my mind to a minor degree.  I suppose, until I can get to the trash and recycling again, I might as well find out more about those books I purchased.  I am hungry for good plain reading fun, even if it moves along at a snails pace.  And I'd like to see if those who have suggested the authors are good are setting me right. 

Oh, I also started digging into alternative treatments for CHF.  I found a number of them that I was not familiar with, did a bit of research, and put them in my basket at Amazon.  Look, what I am doing is okay.  But it's not quite pushing things as well as I had hoped.  And I have reached the end of the line as to increasing the dosages.  Simply, the medicine at higher doses is as bad as the condition, sometimes worse.  More so when I struggle to get back on them, or fall off them.  Messy.  So, I figure, if they can't do it, perhaps I can.  Or at least, perhaps, I can add to what they offer.

On the good side, my neighbor didn't see a problem.  Then again, as I suggested, while I did fall, it wasn't a complete fall.  Gosh, I hope I am not, somehow, still falling... just waiting to hit bottom!  I shouldn't think like that.  I really shouldn't.  Horror doesn't terrify me, this thought does.  You probably have never hit this kind of health bottom, the kind that now worries me.  I have.  Won't kill me but it sure is tough to escape.  Never mind... just night terrors and grumbling.  Later, or good night.

Thinking sminking.

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Sometimes you have to go for the midsection.

Mastery.

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From several dreams, some notions, a few questions, a conversation or two, the notion of becoming a master has been taxing my quiet and conversive mind.  What is mastery.  What are the purposes for it.  What are the limits.  Who really knows.  The best I have been able to do is consider a proposition, do my best with it, move on, and perhaps over time return to it.  As with paint, regardless of whether the color is appreciated or correct for the project, correctness may or may not follow.  But the hue will become more sure with each layer.

There are the obvious reasons to attain mastery, and increase that mastery.  The purely functional level is what most immediately recognize.  To master basket ball or home repair is to find utility and perhaps economy.  To know of history, intimately and as correctly as possible, is to find an audience who appreciates someone who can stitch a form of reason, or nature perhaps more truly, to ourselves as groups, nations, religions, or such.  Each mastery comes with a cost and a benefit.  Mere survival, in some cases.  While I say "mere", the truth is, as humble as that may seem to those in ivory towers, surviving is often better than the option, even in a purely utilitarian manner.  It doesn't stop there, of course.  Mastery has some clear and simple reasoning.  It also has more.

As I am learning to live again, I am finding that mastery of some simple domestic chores, such as cooking, has more to it than pure utility.  As I master this art, in various forms, I find that beyond simply being able to repeat a course, or complete meal, so that one meal is as another, and all such meals are more than just functional, but pleasurable, I see that there is still more.  As I learn to cook a particular food, I also learn how to clean up while I work, how to shop for that meal, and how to do other things that make the whole process much more efficient.  This helps no one but me, even if I happen to feed an army with the meal.  There is a satisfaction, beyond the meal, of being competent, clean, neat, and time sensitive.

So it goes with many things.  None can be an island.  Even should I learn to cook, clean, prep, and shop, so that a meal is accurate, precise, timely, leaving a clean kitchen, I must depend upon my grocer, the butcher, and a host of others for short or long term needs and wants to fulfill my mastery.  Oh, no real point, just counting mental pennies as my day comes to a close.  Thinking, or writing what I think, out loud.  Psychic doodling.  It is what I have on such a day.  Good night.

Oh, books. Well, ebooks.

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I, finally, finished The Irrational Atheist.  No fault of the book.  Concentration simply sucks lately.  As it turns out, only about an half of the book is in direct rebuttal to the "atheist" authors, whom I won't deign to mention.  Not because they are self-proclaimed atheists, but because their works have been proven to be less than worthy of consideration.  They were from the start, it's just now I have the key-code.  There was a great deal to consider.  And I don't always agree with the thrust, if more that I think a parry would work better, or the reverse.  Still, the book is quite sound.  And, when you find your strength in your faith strong enough, and learn your own skills, there will be some difference in the approach to any potential dilemma.  All good, fair sport, spit in your eye.  :p  Loved the book.

I could reread it.  And, if I live long enough I probably will.  Next time, however, it is hoped that more immediate notes will be taken.  I do have a few notes, and a few things to check.  Actually, if I will be in the company of so-called atheists, I will probably reread the book.  A refresher course.  The author does a fine job of explaining the jibbery-jabber that atheists often use as a shit-test screen.  And what they mean by it.  He can't cover everything, but he does delineate their approach.  Sort of like a book on wood carving can't describe every shape, but to an experienced carver, on a new form of wood, he can offer enough that the other shapes make sense when things are in hand.

No, another book will be read.  I pulled down a number of books, per request, in support of a retaking of sci-fi from the queer lover of werebores and negro unicorn crowd.  No, if you like politically correct, leftist preaching... fantasy... by all means, knock yourself out.  But that isn't science fiction.  Science fiction, really, is potential science based futures, or the past, rolled into, usually, a warning about the misuses and mistakes and danger... plus the potential thrills, of things to come.  Many of the originals, if not always in their lifetime, have been seen to be very prescient.  And, the fantasy I prefer, is a fantasy that could have been real and sometimes more.  But the more has to parallel reality enough to be conceivable, if not fully believable.  Quite a trick, a feet political propagandists have never been able to accomplish.  So, as these notions are being returned to print, I will support them.  Hopefully I will read them.  The thing is, I hate jumping into the middle of a series.  I am not sure the books I purchased are standalone, or in series, so need to do a bit of research before delving in.  These things take time.

I'll have to, when I can wrap my wits around a proper review, post a final review on Amazon.  A good read needs to be advanced.  Reviews do that.  Perhaps my foolish attempts at praise might even get one other to read the book.  You never know.  If you can help one person find the reason to stick with their faith, it is worth the effort.  As long as they don't try to make me write books, we are good that way.  So... a review... when I get to it.  A wizard is never late.  He arrives neither too early or too late, but is always precisely on time.  Give or take.

Oh... a shower.  Love those things.  Now that I am up to at least those, I will do them.  Yum!  Later.

Oh, and should you ever need to save time, and needling is required while no one else is there to do your dirtywork, I leave you with information to help.  Of course, there are staplers.  But... I like the old school way, or at least most likely would be required to do it in the old school way.  Just how things work out.

Breakfast was about as good as it gets.

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I skipped toast.  Ham, eggs, and hashbrowns were cooked and eaten.  It is light enough that dinner is possible.  I'm really liking the non-stick pan.  It's not so great for omelets, too small.  I'll have to get a larger one, and I will probably go with All-Clad.  There are cheaper pans out there, that will work, but knowing which one is as lasting is difficult.  The design, after a little experience, is easy to see.  The pan I have now will work for eggs almost anyway I want to do them, but has the wrong sort of lip and non-stick surface for pan flipping.  Flipping food in the pan isn't just for looks or kicks.  It speeds things up and there are a few other reasons.

Still a bit sore.  Still a bit rough.  Still not much going.  I can't really complain.  That was a serious hit.  I am not actually worried about dying, for a number of reasons.  First, I am not going to die for a long time.  Still, I cover my bases.  I've been wrong before.  Still, on this, I am almost absolutely certain that without outside... help... I'm not going to die.  Next, I'm not that lucky.  While I do believe I deserve death, both on the bad side of that notion, and the good, it isn't mine to obtain until what I am here to do is done.  It's just the way of it.  Yes, I'll be whining, in some form or another, for decades.  Put me in your calendar.  Finally, I think, in the short and temporary, it's about suffering.  I thrive on the shit.  In a way, my body has internally taken over my old notions of pushing things to the limits.  I live on the limit, and beyond.  I thrive on what hurts, or kills.  Well, I've got it.  It feeds me, now that I see the condition rightly. 

I'll try, again, to do some things.  Load the trash and recycling out.  Take a shower.  I've already eaten once, but might try to do so again.  I might even take some pain pills, after nearly a week without.  Just enough to possible take the edge off, and maybe see me to more than what I suggest.  Or at least to what I have put on the schedule.  Don't know, can't really care, there isn't enough... enough... to do more than plot and hope.  All good.  Later.

Finally, awake again.

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Sleep, as can be expected, is all over the map.  Too late, tough to manage, just the way of it.  I don't roll in the mud just for my leisure, mind you.  When you find yourself, literally or virtually, on your back, the first thing you have to do is move limbs and body, as you can, in your efforts to rise.  The longer you are down, the messier it gets.  Until, at some point, you are mudwrestling without an opponent.  So it goes.  Sleep is one of those areas.  I'll figure it out before too long.

Sleep was quite good.  I let the girls in, again.  They do help me wake, if some mornings are tough that way.  I don't always appreciate the help, not in the moment.  Not even, for a while, some mornings, when it was a tough ride.  Not for a bit anyway.  Later on I begin to be thankful.  Usually, though, I appreciate their kindness *cough* right away.  Their kindness, mind you, comes straight from their bellies.  "Feed me!", I can almost hear through imperceptible rumblings from their stomachs.  Still, take what you can get.  I'll be done with my grudge on that score before too long.

Last night I realized I had no meat left.  I did have a few potatoes, two onion halves, and the cooking juice.  So... gravy and potatoes.  The gravy was perfect.  You know that thick stuff they put on breakfast meals?  Only beef, not pork, flavored.  Thick, good flavor, and rich.  Beside the fat of the beef, there was butter and whole cream.  A little baking powder (though corn starch works too), flour, and some heat.  Whisk while heating until the whisk won't.  Nice.  There is nothing like a good gravy to go along with potatoes.  Oh, and sour cream on that.  Not that lowfat crap, either.  If you are going to eat, eat right.

Women have been on my mind lately.  I'm not sure why.  This has been a more general thing.  I keep trying to figure out why, for being so annoying they are so desired.  It isn't just, or even mostly, their flesh.  Actually, I have decided, it is their flesh that brings them to being desirable, but as beings.  Femininity is the spice that makes the dish suitably desirable.  As well as frustrating.  It leads them to be where they are so that I can appreciate them.  It's difficult to express this, as it's a thin cut on logic.  A slice between.  Truly nuanced.  It isn't because of what they are, but what they are causes the interest.  Never mind, I'm not even awake yet.  And, I doubt if I will ever completely square that circle.  I do, however, greatly enjoy the effort.  Crazy cats, can't quite get away from them.

Ah, on to something.  I thawed meats for the week.  I have ham thawed, and thought eggs would go well with that, and hashbrowns.  Hmm, and toast, too, actually.  I figured out, at least probably, what is wrong with the hashbrowns I made.  It seems you need to grate them raw, then soak them to remove the starch.  The starch, from my tasting so far, does seem to be an easy causative for the lack of good browning and muddy taste and texture.  Oh, I'll finish what I have made, then see if making them from raw potatoes, and leeching the starch out, really clears up the problem.  A home isn't just a place to learn repair, upgrade, update, and maintenance mojo.  It is a fun place to do culinary experiments.  Some things I take hints about, other things I just begin, and figure out along the way.  Home is good for more than just living... or dying, sometimes. 

On to... waking up and then a bit of breakfast.  Where is my COFFEE?  Oh, right.  Cats aren't all that trainable.  Never mind.  Later.

Okay, boys and girls, Doom has things to learn.

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While checking my email today, I noticed someone wanted to link.  I had... never seen that whole thing before.  I know nothing of these things.  I don't know if I canceled your invite, or what, George.  But, from that... notice, I realized there were others waiting to be added.  How long have they been waiting?  I do feel like a fool.  No, no, I take that back.  I am a fool, a damned one.  But that's not the point.  Anyway.  Some names I recognized immediately, or the association, and accepted as friend or associate.  Some I do not immediately recognize.  I'm not sure how to include them.  So... I don't know.  Associates?  I accepted a... fairly large number of you.  I don't know what I was signing up for though.  Hmm... yeah.  But if I stop to think about it, and dig, I might end up forgetting.  *nuts*  Oh, and I looked up your association connection, and put it in the queue, George.  I had no idea what I was doing when I first saw the notice.  Might have canceled somehow.

No clue folks.  I'm an ogre in the hills with an ear for music, a few notions, and a whole lot of time... if I can't always use it.  I'll have to figure out what I just did.  Heh!  That's the story of most of my life!  Later.

I'm alive. I'm awake. I'm up.

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Huh?  Yeah.  A bit confused, and still a bit sore and green about the gills, but awake, alive, and up. 

Sleep was good.  Waking was good.  Being awake is mostly good, just a few bodily grumps and complaints of the milder sort.  Today, even with the clouds, chill in the air, and the tender snow flakes, seems perfect.  When I can avoid it, even when I shouldn't be able to do so, I enjoy my little pained life.

I dreamed last night.  Something called me to do more.  And then called me to a specific teacher.  As it turns out, the man was a negro.  Not, up front, what I would have chosen, but my choice in things, real life or dream, is not always the way of things.  I have learned to accept many things.  He was a master of kung-fu.  Truly.  For some reason, I had decided to grow through this field, and a number of omens had lead me to this man, specifically.

I researched him as well as possible without contact before making contact.  Further, I interviewed him powerfully when I did make contact.  He explained that he had been dying.  A slow, miserable death.  Not from an illness, but from just having let go.  He knew, and hated, what seemed to be his fate.  Lost in that morass, he sought for and found an answer.  Martial arts, in particular kung-fu.  He found a master and became his soul-student.  Not in the typical lazy negro way, but in a true manner.  He did as his master suggested or commanded.  He learned he was the one he had to learn to defeat, not some theoretical opponent.  When he disagree with his master, he brought that to him directly, if humbly, and they worked those things out.  He learned to be a man, and a living man.  Through the art, he learned to live.  He learned to face truths, both internal and external, and what it means to be a man.  He learned to face his fears.  He learned his limits.  He became. 

I had questions for him.  Some he could answer, some he could not.  I was speaking to him, to his knowledge initially, not as a prospective student, but as a fellow philosopher.  I suggested that the way will only suffice to bolster one's efforts to be fully alive for a while, but that being a student of the way would become a burden, just as had the life before, unless something were to fill the ever expanding reason to continue.  He suggested that he found fitness for life and health.  Then, he learned how to continue that through teaching others.  The answers seemed correct, the way they were offered and the way he emoted in the discussion. 

I suggested that I had doubts about his integrity, due to him being black.  Initially this shocked him.  I could see where he was considering taking offense.  I left it open for him to make up his mind on this matter.  Or, that is how I saw it.  He, in the end, decided not to take offense.  To my mind, it was too close of a call.  He suggested, further, that he understood my misgivings.  From some other things he said, I wonder if I mistook his initial reaction.  Though, not completely.  I hold to gut feelings strongly.  I read winds well.

After hearing of his having gone from student, to master, to teacher, I suggested he needed, perhaps, to try something even more.  I asked if he had taught a child, or an infirm man, these skills.  He had not.  I suggested that this might be a way to go that one step further, but that it would require something new, and potentially dangerous, for him.  But that it might lend to his greater understanding and fulfilling his quest to becoming a final master.  By mastering his strength and skill in teaching one far weaker, while taming his intent to being a dark wolf.  The hunger for the weak, I clearly saw, was in this man.  He had merely been hiding from it.  I saw a lightbulb go off in his mind.  I knew I had him hooked.  It was at this time, that I requested becoming his student.  And so it was.

I believe I taught him, in the end, as much as he taught me.  I did not need combat training.  I am, actually, more lethal without it.  Training would merely allow options other than simply killing.  That part is true.  But I do need greater discipline, and I would rather have less lethal options.  In any case, that is how the dream went.  But it is based on how I think and function.  Strange but interesting dream.  I will be feasting on it for a few days.  More an abstract lesson about myself than anything, that dream.  Interesting.

Well... on to waking.  Later.

Nothing to work with.

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While I didn't fall as hard, or far, as I thought I would, I did fall.  I am still down.  No matter my plans, intent, or attempts to push... even a little, there is nothing doing.  My old falls could be considered a long fall with a hard stop, then blacking out.  This fall is more like a medium fall, but into netting.  I haven't stopped bouncing.  I won't be able to get to my feet until the bouncing has stopped.  Continuing with the analogy, I'm not sure how I will escape the net, or climb up to where I was.

Sometimes I feel better.  Sometimes I feel much worse.  Right now my body is sore from being forced to sit for such long periods.  My innards feel bruised again.  I'm getting a headache, probably from sore muscles and bones, from the strain of being so immobile.  I keep planning what to do.  And I do... some things, small things, for short periods.  Further, when forced to sit, I have been doing little things that weren't really planned, such as beginning to straighten my "desk top", and the drawers I have next ot the desk.  I can't stay focused long enough to do much all at once.  But, over time, it is starting to make sense.  I figure, if I am down long enough, I might get this whole area sorted out.  Or, if I get better, I might do it all in one day.  :p  Bleh.

Some days it truly sucks to be me.  I have had worse.  Many people have had worse.  But most would consider this pretty tough.  I am still close enough to death to see well past the line.  I don't have any real concerns, at this point.  Pray if you like, or find someone in worse straights.  It's up to you.  Holy triage?  If you have room for a quick one, St. Michael is my saint, Mary as a mother might have her ears on, or God, Christ, the Holy Spirit, the assembly of saints... whoever you think might intercede.  God works, though, plain and easy.

It's not just seeing past the line.  Something you should understand is that when you can see there, they can see you.  It's just the way it goes.  It's not always the easiest to deal with, it's just the way it is.  I am, mostly, used to it.  But the eke factor remains, no matter.  I have seen coroners and morticians who have believed themselves past even their touches of it.  The truth is, when you see one of those folks who is settled with it, it isn't because they have gone above it, it's because they have become a party to it.  The reek of death, they have a look and feel about them.  While I am from a darker part of reality, death is different from that.  In some ways death is not a part of the dark.  Only through... oddities... has it become so for me.  So, to me, it is not just a hard notion as with most, it is an unnatural one, in a sense.

Never mind.  Stories and ties to others.  Enjoy and go hide under the covers.  It is about time for me to sleep.  A painkiller or three, first, though.  Crimmany but this can hurt.  I'll keep at it.  Either I will fall to some sort of fugue or find my way up, once I stop bouncing.  And catch my breath.  Good night.

Comments sometimes trigger recall.

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Rarely do I share the connections, memories.  Usually I simply drift through them, taking notes, considering.  As with having had a mother, I do actually consider things outside of my notions.  Doubters!

The other day, regarding this post, foam suggested a bit of... seemingly to me in any case... hesitation, doubt, fear.  Specifically about the first song.  Oh, I do understand.  I wondered about posting it.  Not because it doesn't capture a truth, or fit the notion that night, but because it touches on a darker set of aspects that go with life, and love.  More so for someone, or something, like me.  I know not all that is seen is to be shared, not all that is known should be taught.  And yet I felt compelled to include it.  It was simply too right.  I won't go into details, those are for me.  That I shared the notion will have to be enough, and comments back.  But the truths are there.  And there can be joy in that, a sharing of the darker aspects more surely known by a man and a woman who walk humbly through this side of the veil.

However, it reminded me of an haiku topic, and a series of comments and friendly riposts from foam and myself, at the time.  She is a brassy woman, I'll say that.  Oh, no troubles.  This pleases me.  Why have a woman around if she won't speak her mind?  Her comment, starting with "oops..", and the part about "Your first one..."... it's sort of a polar set of comments, to me.  Further along the pondering, I see where she literally becomes the woman I wrote about.  Doubts... fears perhaps.  My final assessment, of that, still holds.

Oh, I could certainly be a bit off.  But, to me, it reminded me of art and life colliding in various formats to provide a little pleasure of an old ogre on a sleepy day of recovery.  It's the little joys, sometimes.  The little pieces that seem to fit.  Friends, music, art, memories, reason, logic, and some other things.  Just a little pleasure, but one born of many formats.

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Though, I think, there is sometimes more to it.  I don't always realize it, but I... can disturb women just by being free and me?  Yeah.  I suspect so.

Yes, up and... well, looking at it if not quite to it.

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Overcast.  Wonderful though.  My body, it seems, still needs a bit of rest.  I couldn't get to bed until very late and woke even later than what that should have meant.  Sleep was wonderful though.  I let the girls sleep with me last night and yesterday.  Grumpmunches, until they settle down.  The company is good anyway.  They help me wake, too.  Hungry little furry bananas that they are.  Furry bananas with claws and teeth, ticklish whiskers, and very fast feet.  *swipe*  Missed by >...< that much.  Still, when they do wake me, I wake with a grin.  Girls after my very own heart, I tell ya.

I got caught up in some things last night, since I couldn't sleep.  I made a pot roast, beef chuck, in my cast dutch oven.  Browned it first, on the stovetop, then put potatoes below, added some water, replaced the roast, added a lid, and let it go.  I cook my beef a bit more raw, at least as roasts go, than most people like.  Still, that is how I like it.  Oh, but before that, I made popcorn and watched a movie.  The Season of the Witch.  It was, I suppose, sort of a pre-Friday Friday night?  Yeah.

The movie was okay.  I have avoided it, assuming it would be a sophomoric jab at the Church, or a horrid leftist preach about the crusades, or... anything, everything.  Those fuckers simply will not relent, plus they are wrong.  Actually, on those parts, it wasn't bad.  If there were jabs, I didn't see them.  As for the jab at the Church, it is no more than what I have gone through, at times, in my own ways.  Even now.  It is quite fair to lose faith in the men, and the institution, but not fail to continue to believe in the faith and God.  It's tricky, it's slippery, but so is all of life.

The movie was entertaining.  But not greatly so.  I enjoyed the sword play, politics within the film, notions presented, and cinematography.  The story was a little on the weak-sauce side.  Then again I believe in some of the things mentioned.  To a secular who has never heard of such things, and further doesn't believe in them, it might make for a slight trip into fantasy.  Even so, it does stray further into fantasy than fact on the topics.  All good, that is what a movie is sort of supposed to do.  It was worth my few bits for the rental.

As to the lead actor, though...  I keep wanting to not like him.  I keep ending up watching his movies to some worthwhile satisfaction.  I think there, theoretically, should be better actors for the parts, but I haven't seen any who step up and fill the part.  Much as with Keanu Reeves.  Oh, actually, I think I saw Season of the Witch about a week ago.  My how time and the morning fog mess with things.  It was John Wick I watched last night.  I'll review that before too long... maybe.

I suppose I should try to push through to the waking world, and get to some things.  I would like to finish off the kitchen, which I am making inroads on.  I'll do what I can.  Maybe another shower.  I like those things when I can get to them, daily, or at least every other day.  Hmm... with the bathroom clean, I might even take a bath.  I need to get some soaking salts, bubble bath stuff, or something.  I always used to laugh at women for this, until my last hooked me up right.  Being a man can mean being a damned fool sometimes.  But... I like it.  So do they.  *grins*  The little joys of being the fool and being the knowing, but never, quite, being sure which.  Love is surely in the air.

Later.

Yeah...

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Thinking, again.  Good night.

Pieces, bits, parts.

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It wasn't exactly a sprint.  I couldn't even get started until late.  The shower was the first thing.  A fine thing that was.  I noticed my friend called, but I missed it by a long time.  Not sure how, the phone was right beside me.  I swear the thing doesn't always ring.  Right as I was hopping into the shower, the doorbell rang.  Being undressed, and needing a shower before engaging company, I simply went on with the shower.  Odd day.

I did most of the dishes, and some extras, and some more.  Cleaning the kitchen power tools that needed it, and moving them off the counter for now while I was at it.  A bit of cleanup here and there.  And I will put up the laundry as a last thing.  Not nearly as much work was done as I had hoped.  Just didn't have it in me yet.  But it was a good day.  The body simply isn't as ready as the mind.  I also cooked a couple of pork chops this evening.  A perfect meal, with a glass of milk.

I'll give my friend a call in the late morning.  I wanted to do just a bit of shopping tomorrow.  The usual perishable goods, plus cat litter, and maybe a meal.  I am able to eat, though I should keep it small.  I don't know about going shooting.  I'm just not ready.  Hmm, though I could get him to the range, take a chair, and read. 

I need to put my ak-47 together and get that out some time soon.  I have decided not to try to paint it.  The scheme I wanted simply isn't doable by hand.  Well, not without putting a heck of a lot of time and effort into it.  It did get a coat of black over the somewhat questionable paint job it already had.  And it got cleaned right down to the bone first.  I'll need to grease some parts, oil some others, as I put it back together.  She has never been shot.  I bought her just before I moved, and had no room or real way to take her out plus money was a little low.  Then ammunition went through the roof.  And then I went to paint her and got in over my head with that.  I still won't shoot her a lot, but I would like to become proficient with her, and break her in.

That is about that for today.  Other than maybe finishing up a few things in the kitchen, and messing with the laundry.  Oh, while I am out tomorrow, I may stop at the butcher shop and order beef.  It takes about two to three weeks, I suppose to get enough partial orders.  But this time I want to talk to one of the butchers.  At least enough bones for several marrow meals, heart and tongue if possible.  For now that will be enough.  I can't remember the part that they use for the type of sweetbread that I am interested in.  Actually, it only exists on yearly steer, if they are young enough.  Hmm, though oxtail, if they offer it, might be nice.  Yeah...  It may seem like exotic food, but it really isn't.  It is what people ate because they had nothing else... at one time.  These foods are of a more humble, than haute, cuisine.  I still wish they would get over their worry and just allow us to buy brains though.  That irks me.

Good night.

Good, good, and good.

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Time to fire the engine up and begin employing it.  I will be going forward with some caution though not terribly simply either.  I woke at about 8:30.  I am not quite awake.  When I get there I will start, I think, with a shower.  Then hit what has not been done to date.  What else I am not sure.  Hmm, probably finish the whole of the kitchen, figure out where to put the microwave stand and put the microwave on it, and with everything washed, figure out what I want in it, and where.  Doesn't sound like much, but it is rather ambitious.  And I think I can.  Just... another hour or two to wake, another cup or two of coffee... oh and I best reset my medicines.  I've been slipshodding on remnants, but it appears I have used all the mornings up.

Tomorrow I will take things a bit easier, but might get out.  I need to get to confession, and Mass.  Mostly just the boring old regular stuff.  But, it needs to be washed, and the Eucharist after.  If I can conform to mortal time.  Hitting things right on time is just a beastly thing for me to attempt.  I had to have been born late.  Even then I probably tried to sleep through it.  My birth mother was the first woman to hate me.  The nuns came next.  And then my mother.  Though she seems to love to hate me.  Finally, I went out and found women to hate to love me, love to hate me, or some variation.  Thankfully, they are plentiful!

Yes, it's one of those days.  I think it will be a good day, at least for me.  Some people have no sense of my humor.  Mostly on the female side of things, though it isn't purely in that arena.  Still, I think that makes things work out better.  A woman who is not conflicted becomes bored, quickly.  Keep it hot, I do believe.  Makes for better sorts of various love, just as it generally does with food.  Odd how many things parallel each other.  One might be lead to believe there was a very interesting design for all and everything.  A simple glance should indicate so.

I noticed it is only Thursday!  I was thinking it was Friday.  While I won't be done with the living room, I might be ready to hit it next week.  I may get in for some shopping tomorrow, and place the beef order, with a few extras... marrow bone, offal of various sorts, you know...  And, perhaps, I can begin on the living room.  I'll mostly take the weekend off though, if I do well.  A snap of work, a little rest to see how well that works for my health, and if all goes well, a leap back into efforts Monday.

Oh, right, more coffee.  And a little heat.  It's rather cool this morning.  Gosh but a shower will be good.  Needed one for a couple of days, but the crash was simply too intense.  There was the physical, I was hurting, stiff, tired... but too was the simple fact that I could not focus on simple needs.  Awake enough to know and manage food, with a little help from my friends, but little else in the way of tending to self.  It used to be often that I would lose track.  A week out of months, and not a complete drop, is sufferable.  As soon as I can find my feet and focus, though, I get right back to taking care.  Love a shower after a little stint in the wilds.  Yeah, I'm about to hit the gas.  Already started.  *zoom!*  So, get out of the way, or grab on, or prepare to be boarded!

Later.

Something for nothing.

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As I recover, and things begin awakening again, and other things from the storm begin to make sense, a couple of tunes to put it all in order... or is that disorder?  Depends on the perspective of the viewer?

Just a mingling of my recent dance with death and the free-range dame trampling through my skull.

What a nap!

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I set the alarm for a two hour, and change, nap.  Usually that sees me waking before the two hours, without messing with the alarm.  This time was quite different.  I ended up in a place I did not know.  It was mostly deserted.  At least at first.  I walked around this new, different, abysmal world.  After a time I realized it was hell.  But the keepers, or strongest inhabitants anyway, were gone.  Imagine going through NYC, Chicago, L.A., with all law and crime gone, and most inhabitants gone... abandoned, for the most part, save for the truly meek.

I saw many things.  It seems they have found ways to thwart physics.  Not completely, things were just a bit off.  Perhaps that is all they were able to affect, perhaps that is how they prefer it, perhaps their absence limited the changes.  All I know, if I couldn't completely grasp it, was that things didn't work exactly, down there, as they work up here.  I ended up exploring many places, meeting and interacting with some of the former humans who were there.  Scouting, is what I was doing.  I took many notes.  I actually tested the bones demons roll for bets.  To my great surprise, they weren't weighted... rigged.  At least not the ones I found, though I had a feeling that was more than common but a truth there.  On and on, through mostly deserted areas, and some small visitations.

The alarm woke me.  But I had more to see.  So, initially, I kept hitting the snooze bar, thinking I should be able to finish the dream in a 'few minutes'.  I kept being able to be able to fall back to sleep and return to the dream.  Every alarm and every snooze, from 15:00 to 15:30, every four minutes or close enough.  Finally, at 15:30, I realized I had more to do in the dream so I simply turned the alarm off and let the dream go, waking, and finished with the dream, at 17:00... 17:15... somewhere in there.  I finished reviewing the populated areas of hell (if vacated of demons and monsters), filed my report, and sent it to heaven.  Quite a dream, quite an odd dream.  Odd how it continued right through waking and going back to sleep. 

Well... I'm awake again!  And, actually, I didn't need the sleep.  I simply wanted to finish the dream.  I thought it was important.  Who ever knows.  Then again, I have always said, if God asked it, I would go to hell.  I always knew that, should it be His will, I would not only go, I would return with trophies.  Knowledge is a trophy.  Perhaps that is exactly what happened?  Don't know, not awake enough to consider.  Most would suggest it was probably just a dream.  And maybe so.  It's just that I have never had that kind of chain dream before.  Don't know.  I'll think on it.  Later.

She attempted to either pique my ire or interest.

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Though, with women, the difference between the two can be quite amusing.  A pleasure, as I have come to see things.  Actually, I have always enjoyed that nature of the feminine.  Much, often, to their frustration.  Which... all works out in the end.  Still, the notion of a gastronomical oddity, one I have been meaning to entertain, was called out.  Marrow, bone marrow more fully.  As to bone marrow dumplings, I will have to look deeper into the notion.  But, for my part, simple bone marrow has been on my mind for some time.  Since I will be calling up a quarter beef shortly, I may well see about bones just for that.  Here is a link to how to do a simple production for a simple tasting, as a spread.  There is much more one can do with this, but it would be a start.  I like it this way, so that I can taste it in it's more pure form.  Then I can consider how else to serve it, what spices and herbs seem best to try with it, perhaps even a few pairings that are contradictory.  Oddly, I like to try things with other things that don't seem to match.  Sometimes that turns out amazing.  Not always, not usually, but worth the risk.

I love food and dancing with women in the various ways that is possible.  If done with a light heart, a simple humility, and good intent, neither of those types of interactions can go too terribly wrong.  Well, I suppose they can, just... generally they won't.  Actually, if I do find a wife, I will most certainly find some way to literally dance with her.  Formal, square, free-form, perhaps several different types.  Music, dance, and love make for a fine pairing.  Among other things.  *cough*  And yet, I will dance with other women until I dance no more, if in a different way... such as the way of late in various forms.

It's a good day.  I am feeling a bit better.  I am not quite up to snuff, but I am a good distance along the road to recovery.  A few more days and I will be fit as an electric guitar.  Frankensteins aren't fiddles!  I think I will finish those tasks today, though I may take a nap first.  Not great need, but I have noticed that I tire easily.  While I can push past it, I suspect taking a nap will allow a surer opportunity to do the little bit of work this afternoon.  I'm almost back to it.  And yet, I want to give that some time to settle.  That was a pretty serious fall.  Besides, I have the rest of my life to push, and will again do so when ready.  Later.  *zzz*

Yes, another day of rest.

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Until my heart doesn't cringe from time to time, I am going to take it easy.  It has to unlock, and feel rested, before I will begin anew.  And I will be starting out a bit more slowly, taking rests every few days, seemingly needed or not.  I don't mind dying.  I don't mind pushing it until I die, if that is what it ends up taking.  But I would like to find a middle way if possible.  God gave me my life back, and keeps doing so.  I have to think there is a reason for it.  If nothing else but simple gratitude, though there is more, I would like to treat His gift with some due respect.  It is no small gift.  Thankfully He is an ultimately patient God.  Do not think I jest.  This recent event, I do believe, would be fatal to many.  And that I have been through countless such events, just pertaining to the heart, amazes me.  A lot of suffering with the gift and the returns.  But suffering is what I have to offer, mostly.  A fine currency of the realm, God does know the value of it.

Some of it, maybe more yet.

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I did reset the dishes earlier.  Then sort of stumbled through the day.  Finally it was time to do something.  I grabbed my tools and the mallet and got to work.  By the way, the mallet was exactly what was needed in the way of extra tools.  I needed it, or at least is was handy, four or five times.  Some things a hammer would have worked for, other things not at all.  A good choice, a little forethought.  It took about two hours to put the thing together.  Mind you, I was not running it like a race.  There were two or three things I missed, or nearly missed.  When I realized I hadn't included some parts, I hadn't buttoned that part of the operation up.  Actually, from what I can tell, I caught the things right at about as good or a time to catch them as I could.  It's just that they were a bit of a surprise.  Yes, it's done.  And it looks and functions as it should.

I am pleased.  I rolled it on into the kitchen.  The food processor and waffle maker fit exactly as I had hoped.  There is plenty of room for some other cooking gear.  I need to wash the smaller processor, toaster, and coffee grinder, before I put them down in there.  Then I need to figure out where to station the thing.  It has to be near a plug, as I will put the microwave on top.  Too bad though, it would make a hand coffee maker cart, with enough room to put whatever else I am using up on it.  Hmm...  I don't know, I'll think about it.  Two of them would be really nice, but space and money offer limits.  Oh, I'll figure it out before long.

I plan on finishing the dishes, at least the ones that are soaking.  Well, I suppose I might as well hit the kitchen tools before storage.  While somewhat large, they will be easy to clean.  If I still am not ready for bed, I may see what of the laundry remains to be handled.  Most of it is done, being done a little at a time over time.  I might get that put up.  Even so, tomorrow is another rest day.  I really pushed hard, and I could have fallen terribly.  I haven't seen that dark alley for a long time.  That's death, or runs through it.  Not going to whistle through there again, not on purpose.  Very spooky since I was awake enough to look down and remember exactly what it is I saw.  I've never remembered, after the fact.  But I knew what I was looking at.

A bit of a rest before I mess with anything else though.  I just finished the cart, so I am tired.  Dinner came.  Soup and a rather fancy pasta salad.  It was light enough that I decided to eat what I could.  Very nice.  I'll save yesterday's supper for tomorrow.  I didn't eat much, but was able to put away half the salad and a third of the soup.  At least there is something in there.  I'm actually thinking of a cup of icecream, blended with milk.  I guess it's a shake.  All I know is that I like it, and feel I earned it today.  Later.  Or maybe good night.

A bit more reading.

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The Irrational Atheist has been being read for several days now.  Focus being the reason it isn't finished.  A fine read.  Truly, I am enjoying it.  I had some notion about the content, but was surprised to find it more exactly as a response to other authors, authors I haven't bothered to muddle through.  Though, from reading the blog of the author, I did have plenty of content and discussion by which to fill in the holes.  And the author of this book does go beyond just rebuttal.  Quite a good read for a number of reasons.

So far there were only a few things I doubt, small things I should be able to check, such as intellectual productivity of US versus French... producers.  I just want to check the numbers.  There are a few other minor questions I wish answered.  Trust me, these are quite minor points, not really completely salient to the points as I consider them, at least not that specifically.  I trust the general gist enough already.  Still... a doubt is a doubt.  I have merely a handful of things I wish to check.  Not at all bad, really.

I may not find myself in complete agreement in the final direction of some thrusts.  I do, however, very much agree with the more general direction.  My disagreements aren't even usually about the final product offered by the author.  It is about the thrust.  It is sort of like disagreeing about where to shoot a deer.  Some suggest a head shot, I would recommend a vital organ body shot.  Now, both will work.  My way simply reduces the precision necessary.  Then again, sometimes I take the opposite position.  In the end, as long as the deer ends up on the table, the general ideas are sound. 

He does a very thorough investigation, including several crazy ivans, in order to check his intellectual baffles.  He looks at the possibilities of what is being contested from their standpoint, or even his standpoint if he were to make their arguments.  So far I have found his thoughts to be sound.  As would be expected, he has difficulty sounding out notions that aren't logical... through logic.  As it should be.  If someone found atheism to be reasonable, he would at least have to balance that against his  own beliefs, in this case against Christianity.  He does make the effort.  No more, say, than as a parent trying to put himself in his child's shoes for a moment, to understand.  It doesn't really work, but the effort can have value.

I'll finish, before too long.  Ah... one thing that really adds value to reading the book, beside for a few learning bits, and a general agreement, is in... categorizing some things.  When I speak of liberals, communists, socialists, and some others, I generally lump them.  To some degree that is absolutely fair.  Even when I get more specific, I can see where I might be misunderstood... or confusing in my thoughts.  The book is helping me to more clearly define where and when and how the various groups do and do not work as a group, and to see the break points much more clearly.  It is detail, not absolutely functionally necessary, but a fine addition nonetheless.  Then, when someone gets smart, I can smack them down a bit more easily.  Smart?  How about smarmy.  Yes, when they get smarmy, I can leave them to chew the fat of their failed coup, from higher level thinkers.  The typical isn't hard.  Most of them can't think their way out of a wet paper bag.  A few of them are almost clever, deviously so.  Take away their bait for their bait-and-switch, trip up their double entendre, show them how they are shooting their own foot while they... shoot their own foot... and it become clear, quickly.

Yes, a good read.  If you are interested in apologetics, this might be an interesting start.  The bible, and reading it heavily, with some decent capacity to understand and associate with the world, is best to begin with.  Then move on to something like this.  This is more general, but starts with the serious bullies of the atheist world, defining a few notions and mistakes in logic plus solid examples and counters.  The rest will flow well from these things.  I wish I had more reading mojo.  Even so, I may re-read immediately.  It's an easy read, solid thinking Christian's primer into intermediate or higher apologetics, and just interesting.  History, a rough touch on math, science, and of course theology, logic, reasoning, and more.  Good good.  I'll have to do a review, full review, when I finish.

Ah, hmmm, I suppose it isn't too bad.

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My chest is still a bit sore.  It comes and goes.  More like a recovering bruise than a sharp pain.  I simply pushed it, I didn't actually break anything.  The rest of my organs seem to have tamed down.  But bones and muscle groups go through pain and stiffness.  It looks like my painless pushing finally caught up with me.  Still, it's all mild.  Just enough to remind me to take a little time off.  At least back off from heavier, or extended, periods of work.

For some reason, the essence of the feminine is surrounding me.  I feel as if a woman is just around.  A happy woman.  Enjoying, quietly, in my company... and my company itself.  A silently, if nearly hummingly happy, female presence.  To be honest, I have always wondered what was wrong when a woman gets in such a mood, so I can't always enjoy it.  And yet it is not fully possible, for me, not to enjoy it on many levels.  I just won't get lost in it.  Women's moods can change like the wind, and their happiness is not always good for those they are happy with, among other things.  Still... it is a sexy thing.  No promise of intimacy, more a happy threat through possibility.  Yeah, I like even the complexity of the feminine.  Even the, or especially, the risky bits.  Like... BACON!  I'm an onion, they are bacon.  Yeah...  Hmm, and they do go good together, don't they.

I did reset the dishes, and will be washing them before too long.  First I want to get the microwave stand put together.  I brought my general tool box out, making sure to include the rubber mallet.  I have been using that to bust ice for my water and mixes.  While I have a hammer in the general box, a soft mallet really helps with furniture type builds.  It isn't just that it is less likely to scuff, it is also able to strike a lighter blow.  I... tend to break things, even when trying to be gentle.  A mallet helps me there... a bit.  I still like the notion of having various tool kits at the ready.  There might still be a call of a specialty tool, or a bigger tool than what fits in my kits, but generally they save me a lot of legwork. 

The key to putting something like this together, while in my current resting state, is to not get too excited or try to just shove the thing together.  Reading instructions, lining things up, getting the tools ready, doing small parts at a time, and going very slow... that is what it takes.  I may end up taking the whole week off.  But I don't want to completely quit, either.  So, if I do something, it needs to be light, or kept light.  Doing just a bit.  I don't even want to stress the body.  What I face is not a demon, no matter how great, but death itself.  Nothing living can resist it, and it is quite powerful.  It seems only to punish me for daring, currently.  But any visitation could be the last.  I don't have the power to defy, though to date he doesn't seem to have the mandate to take.  But he can, and does, thrash me pretty good from time to time.  At least now I know, in a more reasonable from which to understand, just what it is I face.

No food today.  I am still full from lunch yesterday.  Maybe after a bit of work some appetite will reappear.  If I can't eat supper again, however, I will simply wrap it and stow it for another time.  It just means I won't need to cook in the near future.  While I don't trust microwaves for cooking, I do find them useful in rewarming.  I just can't eat, not now.  Oddly, I am getting my daily daily in the bathroom, even more.  And I do still feel full.  Strange.  Oh, and I weighed myself... right at 284.  I need to start lifting weights and walking.  I would swim, but either my gas gets stolen, or it costs too much to drive there.  Just some thoughts.  Oh, and I would like to get my deep freezer moved to the wash room.  I'm not sure that is possible, due to door sizes.  I think I will measure though, roughly.  I don't need the space in the kitchen, it is more of an aesthetics or notional issue.  And, not something I would do immediately, even if health and door and other spaces allowed for it.  Just another thought.

Later.

Does it hurt to try?

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In an ongoing comment conversation, the conclusion was given.  Yes, it does hurt to try.  Why?

There are many reasons, and angles, involved with answering the why of it.  It hurts to start.  It's one more, of hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands, of new things any specific individual has had to learn, sometimes to competent mastery.  Some of those things seem simple now, such as pronouncing, or spelling, names... tying shoe laces... even washing properly.  Things we do every day, or as if every day events, without a thought, but things that took us great pains to finally get right, and the be able to repeat without a thought.  One more new thing seems fine, but it's not.  Especially since many of us are at the point where a new thing, such as a language, or mechanically repairing an engine, are vast topics.  Nothing can be learned from a book.  A book, or many, can help in the learning process, but more a a crutch than even the main driver of the education.  Something to help you remember what you have been shown. 

Beyond complexity, and the notion of learning something new... again... there is the price.  Nothing is free.  Taking, at a minimum, time, effort, concentration, and quite often serious coin even if just for practice materials (or mistakes).  Learning is very expensive.  Even more, it requires a literal changing of the mind.  I don't think people appreciate that aspect as much as they should.  Many don't see it.  In engineering school, I realized deeply and personally what was being required.  And it did cause me some serious personal evaluations.  Most of the other students were unaware of the changes to mind, and even personality, that were taking place.  Some of it would be temporary, some of it is forever.

After those things, there is the possibility of facing defeat.  Not all people can learn all things.  Most people cannot learn consciously.  They don't know what they know.  They don't know how far what they know will take them.  One of my difficulties in school was that I was quite reticent to learn what I did not know.  I aggravated some of my professors to no end by demanding that they explain what they were teaching.  I realized, after a time, that many of them do not know what they know.  On the flip side, and what shouldn't seem like a fear that might keep someone from learning, is success.  However, once you know something, or have learned it, you are expected to be able to function within that domain.  Your are responsible for, and to, that body of knowledge.  This one is hidden from many, but I saw it in my experiences with various sorts of education.  I chose specifically not to learn some things, or do some things, because of the expectations that went with it.  And not just in school.

Is that enough?  It is, to explain why many don't want to learn.  It is why people would rather buy food than make it, would rather buy over-price equipment than to figure out a more economical way.  It is difficult, and tedious, to learn some things and then carry them on, at first.  There are even other reasons.  I know several, that I can see, some I only suspect, and some I don't yet know.  I have spent my life trying to learn, and hitting personal, social, religious, and other reasons why to, or not to, learn things.  This list is the most common of them, for me.  I suspect they are more common in general, if not always known or understood. 

Once some things are mastered, the world really can become your oyster.  It is getting over that hump, getting the tools, and taking responsibility for the education and then function, that simply seems to much for many people.  So few people are passing these things on.  Lawyers and lawmakers are snubbing those who choose to master their world.  There is even social scorn heaped on those who attempt to work past the limits of their finances, or current capabilities.  And yet, time and again, it comes down to these people making the world work.  Nobody likes to be sidelined by the capacity of another, until their life depends on it.  And yet no one can be expected to save those who won't save themselves, or even try to bar the hard working from ensuring their success. 

Just some thoughts.  Not complete, but a jab at it.  If there is something you have been meaning to learn... especially something that has an economic or life purpose... gardening, welding, carpentry, even some forms of art like lead window making... go to it.  You might have to start small, and humble.  You might need to borrow the tools to start out, you might have to start with bought plants or even stick with them, but start with a very small garden.  You might have to surrender free time.  It will be a risk.  I guarantee you will have more failure, starting out, than successes.  Gird your loin and go in hot.  If a dead man can risk that dance, how much easier for you?  Get to it. 

Hmm... now to figure out the kitchen cart.  Bigger hammer!  :)

Much closer to the land of the living.

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Oh, that was fun!  It's been an ancient age since I could get that close and still remember.  Exhilarating.  Uhrm, not that I am going to press that... until I more fully recover.  Then, yes, I will begin pushing again.  The trick, for me, isn't to trip over and die, mind you.  It is to push beyond my limits through a sustained tumble through and past reason.  It is to use everything I have, and then some, and then as much more as possible.  The goal, actually, is to create pockets of reserve, but test them and push even those.  It is what I was born and breed to do.  With my condition, I realize there is a much greater risk.  But too, I was born to take risks.

To many, in my health poverty condition, they don't see how betting the few pennies I have available could mean anything.  But I remind you, a mite or several was enough to impress Christ and shame men of great wealth.  For though both are of little sum, they are all that is owned.  If you bet with dollars but have access to hundreds, or thousands, of potential... you are risking nothing.  I am risking it all and the game itself.  I see men around here who bet it all, if they don't risk their lives doing it.  Honestly, that is as much as a man who has tied himself to a family can and should do.  But I see it often.  Some look down on me, not understanding that raking, or dishes, or putting a piece of furniture together, would be akin to them working hard for three days.  They don't realize, when I stack tasks, I don't just push my capacity, I risk my life.

I think I can grow past where I am.  How much past is a question that will just have to be solved.  I didn't think I would be able to do anything like what I am doing.  Or that when I fell that I could land so softly, upright, without too much complaint.  Still, a day or two more of rest, or really whatever it takes.  I mean to push, and risk, not debilitate, not end.  I will risk ending life, I just won't try to do so.  Which is fair enough.  Life, all by itself, is risk.  A worthy one.  I mean to live it.

What, though, today?  I still want to kick out the dishes, finish the laundry, and maybe hit the rolling cabinet... get it put up and transfer the microwave and other minor kitchen appliances to it.  I might be able to do it today, if that is exactly what I thought yesterday.  I wasn't able to eat last night, so I have dinner for this morning.  I don't need to cook.  Oh, and I looked up how most people suggest making hashbrowns.  Most of them seem to use raw potatoes, but soak them, several times through the process, in order to remove the starch.  Yeah, okay.  Sometime this week I may give them another shot.  I will use up the hashbrowns I made, first, throughout the week, to see if I can get them to brown.  They probably simply contain too much starch to brown well?  Live and learn, which is what the procedure was designed to enhance.

First, though, a bit of time to wake up.  Later.

Less than planned.

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But I am not going to worry about it.  Can't.  It seems messing with the potatoes, then making lunch, plus getting the trash out and doing some of the dishes, was it for the day.  I didn't push.  There was nothing with which to push.  I think between messing with the potatoes and lunch, that pretty much ended much hope for more.  Dinner arrived but there is no way I can eat it.  My body isn't digesting anything.  Lunch is still in there, glaring at me as if it was my fault.  I just threaten it with hot sauce.  Hmm... beer and hot sauce, that might just get something to move?

I don't know what is happening today.  Something very odd though.  My urine smells like gingerbread cookies or something.  Very odd.  The slight aches and pains, the tight chest, the sluggishness... I'm used to all of that, and expected it.  But the odd smell of urine has me baffled.  Yes, a few more aspirin, probably twice daily for several days, will continue.  But that wasn't taken at such a time where it could have affected the odor.  Nor has that ever happened before.  Gingerbread?  Perhaps I AM a cartoon character?  Yeah, well, sounded funny to me.

I'd like to stay up another hour or two.  It won't be a strain.  I'm trying to at least maintain my day schedule.  Perhaps I could watch a movie or something.  I know my collection by heart, so probably not those.  Not tonight.  Some nights are perfect.  The mood fits, or I start one of the old ones out of boredom and then end up remembering why it is in my collection.  I'm not exactly sure what I'll do, but I'll do something. 

Oh, I baked eight potatoes.  That turned into about five 1 1/2 cup portions.  I ate one portion and put each of the remaining portions in sandwich bags, and then into a bigger over-freezer ziplock bag.  I could do a bit of research on how others make that work.  As I said, my attempt at just doing it plainly didn't turn out as well as I would prefer.  Still, it was fun, something to do, and will see me, eventually, to making my own hashbrowns.  Cheaper?  Definitely better.  Nothing in there but potatoes, that's for certain.

Later.  Actually, good night.  Yeah, I think I am done here on the machine for today.  Sleep well.

Pleasant.

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I'm not limping around.  I don't move too much though, either.  I did get to the hashbrowns.  I baked eight potatoes, let them cool enough to peel, then simply used a hand grater to crumble them.  That makes plenty, for a while.  I went ahead and made another omelet, and fried up some of the potatoes.  Hmm...  It looks like I will need some practice, with both.  I may look around for ideas on how to do each better.  Still, it was nice to give these things a go, first, so that when I read advice I might have a chance of weeding out what won't work for me along with what I knew I wouldn't like anyway.  Practice might make perfect, but good advice will cut down on practice.  I am interested in doing it how I like it, not inventing a well worn wheel invention.  Somebody already makes it exactly how I like it.

The kitchen cart arrived today.  I don't know if I will get to it, but that is still the plan.  I didn't finish the dishes since I knew I would be making a lunch.  With dinner arriving later, I can afford to try to get caught up on dishes without fumbling over making more things to wash.  Most of the laundry is folded, a few things in there to mess with, but mostly done.  Just to put that up.  The dishes, laundry, and the cart are all I have on my schedule.  And I am trying to stick to the schedule, either way.  Not more, not less, assuming I am able.  Oh, but if I can remember, I'd like to pull the trash barrel off the curb.

I can't believe the weather today.  It was cool this morning.  It was below freezing, if I read the thermometer correctly.  But it is bright and pretty warm out there now.  I wish I was feeling better, I might get out and rake.  I may eventually hit raking, but in small parts.  Filling a bag, or two, then taking a break for however many hours or days until I can get back to it.  That won't happen until... Probably Friday, or even next week.  The living room, and keeping up on what I cleaned, has priority.  Oh, I'll never be great at it.  Even my mother has turned around and realized that men don't clean well, something just isn't there for us.  She fought the idea for a very long time, but finally has surrendered.  If women, for the most part, want a clean house... it will be up to them.  What I am doing, at my level best, would not be good enough for most matrons.  But cleanliness, in absolutes, is really only a mild part of my works.  My cleaning is probably more about doing something, something constructive, something active, something I might be able to do, as a method of exercise.  Just know that.  Still, if I can get things up to my specs, and maintain them, perhaps dig in a bit deeper, that isn't bad... for now.

I am doing very well.  I just have to take things a lot slower.  I really do.  I am thinking I want to do a bit more, hit things a bit harder, Thursday.  As serious as this one was, though, I'll take off as much time as I need.  I don't know if that is always what happens when I fell in the past.  I couldn't remember everything, or much of anything often.  I couldn't feel pain.  I just knew it was all horribly wrong.  Perhaps if you broke your leg, but couldn't feel it, yet could see the wrong angle... like that.  I have no idea how many times I fell.  I suspect I would go into distress, and then retrigger it over and over, without ever fully having recovered.  I have never triggered this, before, to end up the next day in a conscious, mobile, somewhat pleasant and satisfactory shape.  I just can't get over this.  Though, I must admit, I keep looking for another shoe to drop.  This just hasn't ever happened before.  Ever.

Well... on to... something.  Later.

Bruised.

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As I more fully wake I am more able to assess the problem.  Bruised.  My heart, that is, as if I was kicked, center mass, by a mule.  I've had this happen before.  I've not had it drag me through hell and back.  Not since I first became sick.  Beyond physically falling, my mind has gone to dark places.  Ghosts, real or imagined, events that trouble my mind greatly, and being consumed by darkness.  Whether that was some sort of way of struggling against death, or reliving of the darker parts of a very dark life as many who relive their life in a flash before they are about die, I don't know.  The thing is, that didn't happen, or hasn't happened yet.  But the chest hurts.  Not a sharp pain, more like a deep hard bruise.  Right to the bones.  Some of you know exactly what that is like.

I will take a few days off, or at least at a very low and slow pace.  But I've got to tell you, this isn't a sign of surrender.  For me to live, or die, I will have to continue at the pace I was taking things.  Either my heart will figure it out and catch on, or I will die.  I have faith that, either way, it would be as it should be.  Yes, after a few days of recovery, I need to hit it just as hard.  Although I think I should probably watch for the signs, and even if I can push that far past, perhaps not yet.  Even if that means breaking a promise.  Still, this gives me some leg room in a real emergency.  I can be pretty sure it won't kill me.  That's enough time to get out of the way and find a safer place to be, probably even on foot if need be.

I will finish the dishes, and the laundry, and if I still have a bit of resting energy, I might begin clearing the living room.  Just sorting papers, books, and such, tossing old mail and whatever else.  If the microwave stand shows up, I may, slowly, assemble the thing.  I just won't wrestle it together as I usually do.  Or maybe that will happen tomorrow.  Depends on how I am doing.  I am low, but I'm not out of it, completely, mentally, physically, or spiritually.  And, again, I am amazed.  Hmm...  I think I deserve breakfast.  Another omelet sounds good.  Especially since I don't have to fry all the fixings.  I have left-over fried onion and mushroom.  Grating a bit of cheese would be good though.

The first omelet I made was good.  My one failing was timing when to add the extras.  Gotta do that right into the goop of the top, uncooked side, then flip it.  Hey, it's probably the first omelet I have made, at least in decades.  At least that I remember, memory being what it is.  I'd like to work with making hashbrowns, but that is a road too far with what else I have going on and my condition.  Perhaps later in the week.  Still, it would be might tasty with the omelet.  Hmm....  You know, I might bake several potatoes, let them cool, and run them through the processor.  I really want hashbrowns with my omelet!  Bleh... there I go again.

Later.

That is very different.

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I was sure I would be gone for a while.  Days, probably a week or weeks.  The speed and direction indicators, when they have done that, it has meant serious things were afoot.  Now, I won't say it is nothing.  I am feeling pretty solidly delicate, like a rather cracked porcelain doll, hoping an earthquake doesn't happen before I can be slathered in some sort of glue or other fixative.  Holding onto the razors edge with my toes might give you a... more Doom flavored description.  But holding on I am, and without too much effort.  Gingerly, do I cling, but for the time, ginger but sure.

Not only is this morning good, but sleep was wonderful.  No bats from the belfry, no haunting of past loves or brothers, no unsightly familial faces from the far dark side of my bloodlines to annoy or entice.  Just sleep, and rather good sleep.  A bit weary this morning, but to be expected given how far I really drove over the line.  Usually my flesh won't let me, so I don't pay attention.  I swear, this time my body almost let me kill myself.  Or did it?  Am I actually well enough to push like this now?  Oh, it's not a great push by the standards of a healthy human.  Though it is a solid pace, at least to most folk.  Things are changing.

While I didn't crash, burn, and end up digging through the refuse of a life, or lives, ill spent, I did get the warning loud and clear.  My body is very used, a bit sore, and stiff.  I do need to take a few days at a reduced speed.  I won't quite entirely.  I will simply lower the load.  I can still do some things while seated, and that is what needs to happen.  I will finish the dishes, pretty close now.  Finish the laundry.  I hate folding laundry sometimes, but no one else has volunteered.  I can sort through things in the living room while seated, and in here.  I can still be on my feet from time to time, but I can't push to be on them for too long.  I have officially put myself on light duty, for three days minimum, starting today.  Don't even ask, unless I am it.  You are probably screwed if I am it, but I will give it what I have.  Definitely screwed if depending on me.  :p

I did get the trash out.  I thought about letting that go, but I have bags of leaves to let out as there is room.  I have to hit trash day or those bags will sit around, then rip open, then... it just doesn't work well.  It is a light enough job, short, there are wheels so very little weight involved, and it had to be done regardless.  When I headed to do it, first thing, without thinking anything about anything else, this morning, I realized... I hadn't fallen.  I was shocked, still am.  But I need to make sure I don't fall, at this point.

Later.

I dug too deeply.

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This is going to hurt.  I did a bit today.  I also saw the direction I am heading, noted the speed.

Not much, not fast.

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Fine, though.  I meant it to be as it has been.  I ran fresh wash water on the dishes, swept the kitchen and bathroom, and that is it so far.  I really want the dishes now soaking finished, and the other bits like the new pan and such washed before I call it a night.  The laundry too.  Plus, perhaps, more of the boxes will be broken down.  Finally, gathering all of the trash and getting it out.  Actually, there won't be much.  I took a bag out yesterday.  Just a bit of this and that can always go, if I look a little closer.  But first, something to eat.  Actually, I may wash, and use, the pan I bought.  Am omelet just sounds good.  I don't have much to add to it...  I could grate some cheese, and check the onions.  Not a super omelet but good enough.

I am still a bit stiff.  Oddly I am not sore.  I had thought to get up and take the last of the lights down, but that will be a bit more involved.  It is taking all the clips down along with it, removing those or disassembling the things as I go.  Not that it's a big job, but as with raking the other day, I'm not quite up to speed to take on what seems like a larger chore.  Plus getting the ladder out, setting it up, moving it around.  Yeah, another day.  I am tired and stiff, and more than a bit surprised that I am not sore.  I'll take it.

Next month, or the month after, I need to consider inside and outdoor mats, near the doors.  I may begin taking my boots off at the door, and having something for home right there.  Initially, it will be a learning thing.  Eventually, when my floors have been cleaned, or replaced, the practice will pay a bit more handsomely.  It's something I have always considered a good thing, I simply haven't had the will to even try to make it work before.  Hmm... perhaps I could build a bench to ease with removing shoes.  Some days, after a long or hard run, removing shoes or boots is quite a chore.  But what about groceries?  I always buy a large load at a time... or usually.  Perhaps some sort of cart near the door too?  Just load that up so I don't have to track into the house.  You see, there is a reason some things aren't done.  Even if they are tried, there are always... complications.  People just run out of energy, money, and/or willpower, somewhere along the line, and then a good idea is simply abandoned...  I'll have to think on these things.

On to a late breakfast.  Later.

Sleep can be so very good.

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Last night was one of those nights.  Proof, more than some of the other proposed options, that God loves us and wants us to be happy.  Most don't recognize it because they have never gone more than a short time without good sleep.  Go without sleep, or actual full wakefulness for a decade or two and you will understand.  I doubt if I am sleeping as well as most of you understand even now.  However, for me, it comes down to better or worse.  Last night was on the card as memorably better. 

A little stiff and sore this morning, but on the 1 to 10 scale, this is a pleasant 1 to 2.  Just enough that I know I have worked.  Just enough so that I immediately knew I was alive.  Mild enough to call me to wakefulness somewhat mildly, and dare me to pass it on my way to better parts of life.  In pain there can be found joy, and a calling.  So it is.  No need to fuss with it.  The pain, I can tell, is probably just the normal pain of waking, and will pass before too long.

Today will be a gentle roll through some small efforts, while at a resting pace.  The work I have been doing has been heavy and frequent enough that I do, sorely, need a day of more mild endeavor.  Every time I have meant, recently, to take a break, something has come up.  Wednesday I had meant to back off, but got busy in the morning while forgetting about raking.  Friday I had meant to take a day off but then my friend called to get me out shooting.  All good, mind you.  I earned my keep, within and beyond my ability, this week.  It is a good thing.  But I am weary in a general sense.  Truly a wonderful thing in and of it's own.

Dishes, finishing the laundry if there isn't too much to do with that mostly, a meal or two.  I have a sack in one of the new larger than normal waste baskets so I'll get one in the other.  And, as I sit in my various stations, I may begin sorting the paperwork, notes, and such, tossing what should have been thrown away but had no place to go, and then I timed out on the effort before something else changed and the pieces just became part of the environment.  Slowly I am... reconditioning my life, adding those things that bring some joy, or function, and changing things to my liking.  I am organizing... slowly.  Learning to live again, more functionally.  Yes, yes, there is a reason.  Several, but one main reason.  Her.  I will expect much from her, and be disappointed sometimes.  And I expect she will expect much from me.  I will teach her to handle disappointment as well.  And yet, if we do our legitimate level best, I think it can work.  Well... all theory, all the time, and something to ponder?

Yes, a good day of rest and mild effort.  Tomorrow?  Finishing the kitchen, then hitting the living room with a bit more gusto.  Finally.  The sink, between faucet and plumbing, has held me up.  And actually, is still a bit of a work in progress.  While I have the flow I want, and the plumbing is sealed, the drain is slow.  I need to figure out venting.  I actually have a piece that will fix it, if it isn't the proper vent, just an undersink one of a dubious (according to some) nature.  I want to finish the living room before messing with that though.  I'll do that in a rest period between bigger efforts.  That might be what is wrong with the bathroom drain, too.  Though I don't think so.  Hmm... after the living room, I might tinker with both drains.  It would be very good to have those both working exactly perfectly.  I figured out the water flow, and some of the plumbing.  That is all that remains for those.  Plus... now I know a bit more, or less.  *grins*  You NEVER know, more or less.  I don't, anyway.

Hmm...  I'll wash the pan and see if I can do an omelet with it.  Hashbrowns and... maybe something else too.  Uhrm, after I finish waking.  Another cup of coffee or two, and a bit of time to wake, then on to... a mild day.  A Sunday.  Later.

Yeah, pushing.

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One minute past some unknowable bedtime after a bit of pushing and I lose it.  I can't remember... anything.  Seriously.  I just hit something.  Then, every time I go to do something, remember a name, recall anything and... it isn't there.  Words are lost.  The world gets so very small so quickly.  Bedtime.  Can't do anything else.

It was a good day.  And while I didn't finish raking, wasn't up to it solo today, I did a number of other things.  Plus, I'll get to raking soon enough.  This week or next, if weather holds.  Might have to do it in small chunks.  As long as I load what I rake, I don't mind.  I don't want to leave piles out there.

Tired.  Tired beyond tired.  Good night.

Not sure what will happen today.

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I am not sure about the last of the raking.  It's a bit much, solo, for me.  I will have visitors, but whether to help raking I don't know.  Still, I did get out and do some things.  I policed downed branches and twigs, adding them to the burn pile.  I had to do some chopping for portability.  Then I thought it would be a good time to take Christmas lights down.  I did bring up the ladder, though I don't know about getting up on the roof today.  It's a low roof, but it takes a bit of energy to clamber up and keep balance even on the modest incline.  I did get the power cords down, I can reach where the cord connected with the higher lights.  Then I took down the lights on the trees out front.  Yes, yes, I rolled the cords onto hangers just for those, and bundled the lights back onto their spool.

For today I think I will just take the ladder back to the garage.  Perhaps sometime soon the right mood, weather, and health will see that part done.  I also started the dishes.  None are of the larger variety, so the kitchen sink will do just find for those.  I really need to do some cleaning while I am at it.  Just a bit to make washing and messing with dishes easier.  I'll save the major cleaning for when the rolling microwave cart shows... should be here Monday.  Then I can clear some of the appliances off the counters, THEN hit them with some clean and shine.  Until I have a place for things, I just end up stumbling over everything, this way then that.  Nothing seems to get as cleans as it should.

If the raking does get finished today, that will probably be it.  Oh, maybe hitting the dishes a few times.  They had gotten pretty rough since the plumbing fell apart and things backed up.  Several cleanings to get down to shine.  But not big fuss.  There aren't that many to do, sort of.  I do need to remember to measure, then buy, some wash basins for the sink.  It just really helps if I need to soak things, or if I want to put a general soak basin there for the day, finishing things up at night, but not letting them get crusted from sitting in the arid world out here.  If raking doesn't happen, I'll figure some other things to do, maybe.

Tomorrow needs to be a rather simple day.  Perhaps a few small chores, but nothing heavy.  I am pushing, on top of pushing, already.  I did have a fall or two, but so small I decided to keep pushing if I could.  I do need a break from time to time, though.  I really do.  And tomorrow is it.  I am pleased with how things are going.  I'll try to keep it up.  Hmm... then again... I had promised to take people to dinner, but they won't be available for that.  Pizza, was the plan.  You know what, I might just go on my own.  It's been quite some time since I had good pizza.

Later.

Oh, right, another project.

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This one has been discussed sine the first BM event.  I just never have gotten to it.  The idea was to create a shower room.  A luxury in the desert, I must say.  In a gifting event, much of what I have considered gifting just doesn't really mean much.  MOOP waiting to happen.  But a shower, for some, and a place to do that with some privacy, modesty, is quite a fine gift.  It can't be taken with, but as many of the best gifts, it will be carried away without loss.  Plus, I just like the idea, for a number of reasons.  I like to build things, for one thing.  Oh, what am I discussing?  A hexayurt.  Here is a rough examination of the process.  Though I would have to get more detailed plans   But this is a start.

Doubts and worries.

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As much as I have been doing, I worried about this morning.  You can know some of this, but not to my level.  It isn't just about waking up sore, or needing to sleep in.  There have been decades, where if I pushed as I have, I would fall and stay down for months.  Months in which memory didn't exist.  I had to live, at best, with notes to tell me of anything important, which I would probably miss even so.  Months where eating happened in large quantities at rare moments.  There was pain, too, but of a sort that never got better.  Actually, to some degree, it isn't better now.  It's just that between learning to live with it, and my body's natural ability to tolerate large doses of it, I don't notice even when mostly positively cognitive.  But the pain can go beyond my capacity to cap it.  Part of the fugue can be from emotional, or physical, suffering.  At some depths of either, the two somehow mix, compound, and increase.  Pushing as I have been has done that.

Not this time.  I still wonder if I am skating on the edge of a razor blade... just waiting for the horror to hit.  And yet, after weeks, off and on, and really months now, I don't think so.  And yet, after a particularly heavy week, I... wonder.  Some nights, when I go to bed, I have to think that maybe I won't be waking up for a week, months, perhaps a year.  I have been, mostly, down for that long before.  I can do much in that fog, and it doesn't seem to impair my native morality, and now Christian ethic.  As to doing things, I simply used to need a woman type to guide me, for a while.  A woman would still help, but I wouldn't need her for memory.  Mostly, or any more than she would need me.  :p

The week isn't over.  I, at least, have raking this afternoon.  And I would like to hit the dishes, with the sink working, and do kitchen cleanup while I am at it.  Oh, and maybe break down the last of the boxes.  I'm a bit hesitant about some of the boxes... just because of what they contained.  I have this fear of tearing a box down only to need it to make a return.  How long should you keep boxes?  Never mind.  I think with what boxes I have, and the time that has gone by, and this and that, it is safe to take those down.  It's a little devil I always seem to have to wrestle with, until the task is forgotten.  No more.  My memory outlives my dilemma these days.

I might actually have the kitchen done, today or tomorrow.  Then, next week, I can focus on the living room.  Sort, move, dust, vacuum, then steam clean.  I think I can get it done next week.  Probably.  Then, most likely, on to my bedroom, finally.  After that, the guest bedroom.  And then I will begin figuring out the en suit bathroom.  Oh, while I'm in the living room, I need to see about planks for shelving.  If 4x12's, of furniture grade... or at least plainable cuts that would work well enough for painting, aren't available, perhaps 3 or solid 2 x 12's are available.  They would be lighter, easier to mount, but not nearly as dramatic, or rustic, or... masculine.  But they would suit, give or take.  I am, after all, making my world.  Sometimes, seemingly, out of whole cloth.  Things I like, improbable notions, made to work for my eye to design, aesthetics, tastes, wants.  Though these things aren't completely stylistic, either.  Shelves open up the floor space, making it easier to work the devices to be put on the shelves, opens up the floor for easier cleaning, and is potentially a much steadier base upon which to store these things.  In the bathroom, they will offer easier cleaning, and I can adjust the height of the top counter to suit me without having to fuss with building a box for under something else.  I simply place the top shelf at the level I want it.

I truly am amazed at how things are going.  I keep saying that.  As Dr. Manette, from the Tale of Two Cities, if for, mostly, different reasons, I know how quickly I can fall into illness.  I am sure, as with him, I myself will fall into my own portion of that notion from time to time.  Now, it seems, the falls are rather short, and mild.  Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor... and shoesmith.  I didn't think I would make it out... alive?  Something like that.  Wonderful, really.  I may never know the fullness of the past or what the future holds.  I can't even always contain the moment, though who can?  But I am at a place where I can move on, mostly unhindered by those shadows, ghosts, and truths that all but ate the spirit out of me for so long.  A new day.  And yet, until I am more sure, and experienced, as today, I will always approach some tomorrows with great trepidation.  A fugue is a horrible prison, or grave, for the aspects of a being.

Later.