Reflections in the mirror?

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In my daily reading sometime I stumble upon something that... makes me stop and think.  Was I like that?  Whether it is about a uncivil citizen, political idiot, religious zealot or heretic, or such.  A big stop sign appears and I need to think about it.  If enough key things fit... does the shoe then fit?  No, I doubt it is a finger being pointed... just...

Recently reading I ran into such a case.  Having just woke up, and with so many coincidences, I almost blushed.  Was that truly who or what I was?  Everyone's first instincts, in such cases, is "NO!".  But that doesn't work.  I had to think, was I ever hard on a woman, coming to physical blows?  Did I disappear for a day, night, or days on end?  Did my women fear me?  Was I a cad when involved with a woman?  Were my moods mighty and terrible, fearful?  Was I, in other words, an unmitigated asshole?  First off, I was often an immature ass.  I could be incorrigible.  And I made more than one man's lifetime share of mistakes.  I won't argue that.  But... was I consistently such?  Was that a sum of who I was?

With short term relationships I never worked up a profile.  Most of my relationships were short.  There are many questions, to each other, that never are asked.  In longer term relationships, however, self doubts appear and so questions are asked or scenarios worked out or remembered, which allow for a clearer view of what type of a man I was.  While I did play the cad, that role was distinctly when I was younger.  By the time I hit my mid-20's, for example, while knowing I wasn't marriage material I also knew that I was predominately a one woman man.  Admittedly, the relationship at that time, as I was coming into my own in being faithful, was full of... inconsistencies.  Uhrm, though from both parties involved.  The next few relationships, my last ones, were quite... singular.  So, yes and no on this.  Then again, I was choosing as a non-marriageable man for women who fit my profile, too.

As for violence?  There were only two, maybe three, women I ever resorted to violence regarding.  No, I never punched a woman, a mate or otherwise (even though sorely tempted when I was a bouncer from time to time, women drunks are inSane).  I did spank a few who actually punched me, or hit me in an actual combat way, girlfriends that is.  Those were in my early years.  But I must admit, if a woman, my woman, tried to strike me even today I would paddle her butt still.  I won't tolerate that kind of violence.  At all.  As for my longer term relationships though, I simply never did have that "problem".  Even when I was in the throws of heavy drinking, and feared for my sanity (because doctors can't distinguish between bi-polar and severe heart failure), I often checked with my woman.  She never feared me, still doesn't when I visited her since.  Which I stopped doing because... she is still interested.  And my last?  She was a pistol!  How else to put it.  I did let her know that violence would not be tolerated, that she would be spanked if she went over that line.  I think that is the only thing that worked with her, she was a true firecracker.  She a shock troop liberal feminist, me... not so much.  Oh, we had arguments that lasted weeks it seems, until even here I put my foot down.  I would argue only so long before I required proof, documentation, and time to counter that before I would continue.  The most I would do with her is... lock my computer room door if she was on a bit of a tear.  By the way, she visits me out here to this day.  She will probably be visiting this winter, for the third time since I moved.  It's boring, sort of, for her, but it is a trip 'somewhere in the mountains'.  We still sometimes argue, though mostly for hours on up to half a day.  Last time she was here she was getting upset about such an argument.  Later, after she had calmed, I talked to her.  Not about the topic of disagreement but about the anger.  I suggested I enjoyed these little disagreements, and I thought she could to, if she wouldn't take the material as personal, a reflection of herself.  Divest emotion and debate, I suggested.  I think... she actually, for the first time, saw... something.  Yes, I really do enjoy little "discussions".  I think she just likes to fight, so will probably never change, even if she might... learn to enjoy that a bit, privately, in the back of her mind. So, no, not a violent guy.

As for moody?  No more than typical, albeit with heavier seeming "downs".  But that is simply a physical manifestation of having a very bad heart.  My ups tend to see me trying to figure out how to cram as much work into whatever time I might have as possible, or whatever social or religious activity as possible.  As for the whole bi-polar thing, the guy in question or myself?  I call bunk.  There is no such thing, possibly.  Doctors have just decided to call bad behavior something in order to... write it off the books.  A bad man is a bad man, he does bad things because he wants to and to a degree probably has been allowed to do bad things.  A man who thinks only of himself, and I have been here, is just a man without cause, goal, reason, or good leadership.  Once that mold is set it may take dying to break it.  It did in my case, actually three deaths before something sunk in.  Yeah, I can be a little... thick.  Still, there is a point where people have to stop giving in to the temptation to excuse every bad behavior through medical terms.  I have faced much of my music, coming to God.  It wasn't pretty, and things still crop up from "the good old days".  Memories come back, with all the immature feelings I had regarding them right along with them.  And these have to be tempered anew.  No excuses.  I did what I did, bad heart, bi-polar, or no.  I take my hits.  So I think the moodiness, which often goes with violence, is moot here too.

Yes, a thought provoking post is good, if it can sure sneak up on me.  Oh, sure, I could be downplaying things too.  I was and probably can still be a master at self, and other, deception.  People do that.  But, no, I think I am rather correct.  I worked very hard, sweated bullets, swallowed guilt and shame, and slowly let the blinds come off.  I also found out how to let go of that, the best I could.  Christ as a psycho-social trash bin?  Sins are worse than trash, so I am being generous (though not to us, or against Him, as it might seem)..  Like a one time favorite song suggests, "When I was young I thought I was the nicest guy I knew.  As time went on I learned, I'm not such a nice guy after all."  And I am still not a nice guy, if I do my best to be a good guy in the true sense of that.  And yet I still fail to be nice.  If being good also precludes, sometimes, being a nice guy at all too.  *shrug*  But that is what I have.  I sure regret the harrowing lives some people have gone through even so.  Being a woman is no easy task.  On balance, I am glad to be a man.  Even that isn't so easy, all said and done.  But life was never supposed to be easy once we decided we could do better than God's plan for us.  Just... clearing some baffles.

Be well.

Disturbing beauty.

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As I was reviewing my profile regarding a wife, looking at my list, I decided to deconstruct the list.  I wanted to tear each piece apart.  I wanted to see what could be negotiated, how much negotiation room there is, and what lines negotiations might take.  I think I chose which of the three listed requirements to question first badly.  No, not that everything can't be questioned.  Merely that if you start with something that cannot be completed, the projects that must follow it are also delayed.  As is I started with my notion regarding finding a woman able and willing to be married within the Church, the Catholic Church.

I thought the process of creating debate for this would be easy.  I would either take a few steps in, find a dead end, and move on... or I would trek through thought after thought, ending at some solution or set of solutions.  From the outside it may look like logic is a simple device, to be applied to apples, oranges, fruit pies, family, girlfriends, or whatever else may be presented.  Some things simply don't work like that.  This is one of those.

While I was freethinking the thing hit me that I should start from the start.  Why am I Catholic, well, to within my knowledge of even what all that means?  If I don't know that, I cannot know what it means to me.  I can't give Catholicism a value, a social or intellectual or spiritual currency basis, without comparison, understanding, requiring some thought.  I realized the seed of my conversion, the initial seeds, where probably from initial understandings.  I had been Catholic for a very short time when I was quite young, if little of that was functional.  Actually, the only thing I do remember is being in a Catholic grade school for about six months, part of either the first or second grade.  That was it.  And we didn't go to Church much, either.  That was about the sum of my introduction to Catholicism.

I did try to find God.  As a child, we moved a great deal, yearly at least, as I have mentioned.  We almost always lived in small agricultural towns.  Often there was only one church, always Protestant.  So, I would go to what was available.  I began reading and such, looking, seeking, wondering.  Oh, and there are good, great, Christians out there who are not Catholic.  And there are not so great Christians out there, me being among them.  We do what we may.  I never did find what I was looking for, eventually I drifted to secular social life.

It wasn't until after my third scrape with death that I, re-awoke?  I had seen something there.  Something wondrous.  Though even now I won't say it was more than oxygen deprivation.  But it did move me.  Having been close enough to death that only a feather would have tipped the balance forever, and twice so painfully that I was sobbing for my mother, I later came to believe that... what I had experienced that second time was as close to being near God as a human can get before actual death.  The love I felt was immeasurable.  This was the actual conscious adult seed that sent me on a search for God again, and what led me to Catholicism through accepting and rejecting this and that notion about family, faith, all, and God.

Having cried for my mother once, in part due to nearly delirium inducing pain, I thought the thing was a fluke.  I was not on good terms with my mother either of those times, for my part.  But when it happened the second time, I realized there was something more to my wanting her near me than I had allowed myself to admit.  The love of a mother is an extremely potent thing.  I reminded myself of those guys I had literally knocked out, who always suggested they had slipped on something.  *BaM*  I too was trying to say... I had slipped on something.  Well, and I did.  When humility is beyond rejection, there was the love.  What I realized in that last dying was that God's love was well beyond even the love I held for my mother, if those two things are the only thing so powerful I have ever encountered.  I try not to think about it too often.  It sort of rips me up when I do.  But I know it, intimately.  While, if dying painfully again, I realize I will still call for my mother... I know these two things.  Give unto Caesar what is Caesar, and moms are one of our Caesars.  And, mother is another name for a form of the love of God.  All of this is wrapped up in the notion of family.  It is as close to God as we can get without nearing or actually dying.

Call me a ninny, a crybaby.  Deny my death, deny my vision.  Don't deny my words upon your very soul.  You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.  Trust me, it's a bargain.  Imagine buying the Mona Lisa for a dollar, then stretch that beyond your imagination.  For that is a weak, nearly negligible, example.

In short, being married Catholic stays.  I'm in no shape, now, to revisit the other propositions.  All men are equal when their memory fades, probably as it fades too.  Even an ogre can cry, and know what real love is worth.  It is simply everything.  That is why I am a Catholic.

Ha!

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Okay, nothing fancy.  I am pleased though.  No, didn't get much done.  I did tell my friend, yesterday, that I would be in town today to get him shopping and out of his apartment.  Without being able to sleep last night I was not sure I could fulfill my pledge.  I stayed awake until 10:00, then 11:00, and he called.  I suggested 13:00 as the time I would attempt to be there.  I was hemorrhaging time like a pro, I knew, if I made it in, I would have to do something to... track time.  Ah, that little timer!  I set it for 25 minute intervals. The first two I just "wasted" trying to regain focus.  The next interval was used to take a shower and get dressed.  I then reset the thing to zero (it uses no battery life when reset).  I was in my auto.  I made it just on time.  I need to start remembering this puppy when I try to make Mass.  It won't always work, but it sure can help me keep track of moments.

In town I finally joined Sam's Club.  Why?  Bulk buying, mostly.  As I know, it isn't always the most economical to buy there, bulk or no.  What is good is the convenience.  Some things, packaged in too large of doses, are useless to me.  Many things are exactly what I am looking for.  The odd thing is my friend could also get a card, so we split the cost.  He needed primers too, so another store was visited.  About that time my attempts to stay awake were coming unraveled.  Still, a drive up the canyon is just the thing for a sleepy driver.  It was raining, or threatening that strongly, so no shooting occurred.  Up the canyon just a bit, then I told my friend I had to close the day down.  He seemed happy with it, probably just realized how drowsy I had become and has this... thing about a longer life.  :p

Dropping him off I headed straight home.  I stayed up for dinner.  At shortly after 18:00 I hit the sack like a freight train.  No need for a pillow fight with myself, bothering with comfort, or rolling for an hour or three or five.  *Bam*  Lights out.  I hit so damn hard I bet I left a crater in Sleepsville.  Waking at 23:00 I am... casting about for food, fighting off the local natives (those girls are hungry all the time these days), and figuring out how much of a sleep time-out I will be forced to take before crash landing again.  I would love to get back to bed in a few hours, then be up for daylight tomorrow.  I have work to do!

I had zero luck with women today.  Though, to be honest, women can be quick.  It is only a few that 'put the lights on', and I think those are... exceptional displays, probably having to do with hormonal fluxes.  It's the woman that looks at you while you aren't looking, and does so consciously, that would be the type of woman I am seeking.  Of course, you probably won't catch such a woman... unless she wants to be caught, is free to be caught.  They can eye-gauge you in about a billionth of a nano-second.

Oh, I realize that I... dabble in the fantasy.  I make mistakes, or might see or make more of something than what is there.  I might misconstrue something said by third parties.  Leave my flights of fancy alone, it's... it gives me hope.  At 45, I would be hard pressed to lure a 20-something, even a low 30-something might be a difficult catch.  Being honest.  And yet... even without wealth, it does happen.  Perhaps more than ever.  Many men, especially the younger men up into their 30's and older, are completely backing out of the whole marriage charade, many women are noticing.  Women WANT to be married, most of them, if too few know what that even actually means.  So many women just want the photos, dress, cake, party, social status, and dress, I think?  Then again, maybe that is where it has to start for them?  Men have our own... follies in this regard.

Oh, I'll begin looking through the Catholic sites, figure out which ones I would have any interest participating with.  I do need to get some pictures taken, and in digital form.  Though part of my holdup is that this computer for sure is simply not secure.  Actually, no computer is secure.  I won't paste my pictures anywhere, but I might send them to prospective women through certain channels.  And, no, it won't be in a Speedo (or less).  Heh. Still, I look better than Weiner.  What was he, that was a 7th grade physique!  The trick is to get flattering photos, or at least passable ones. I am, strictly speaking, not photogenic.  Though I am not handsome to start with, age and size (size matters here, too, I just don't "fit" camera aspects well) really add to the toll.  Thankfully women don't necessarily like what I like, visually, or even seem to see the same fricking thing?  All good, all good, don't mind the notion expressed, that part can be discussed with a woman later.  Ugh!  If I frame the photo to show my full size... that actually helps.  Having my head near the roof, framed (as much as is sometimes possible) in a door, or with me near a vehicle or other common large objects by which estimates can be made...  that helps adjust the size issue.  The ugly issue?  No, that's just the way it is.  Same with age, though shaving right before and being rested for the photo helps with that.  Yugh!  I hate photos, I really, really, do.

Later.

Things on my mind, I guess.

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I realize that people do read here.  And, as can happen, they sort of treat reading here just as if they were talking to me and I told them what I wrote here.  Now, that is fine for most things.  What I say and write are quite often the same thing.  When that isn't true, however, there seem to be... problems.

You aren't reading what I say, or even would say.  You are being exposed to my mind, to the degree that is possible.  There is, for example, the mundane, practical, sure, fact stuff.  That is, for the most part, what I might tell you, along with some of the theory, that which is worked up well enough to be offered for review as well as being acceptable to polite company.  What else goes on here is akin to data digestion.  If you looked in my stomach after feeding me a dinner, would you think you had done the wrong thing to feed me?  Maybe.

I think about things, explore possibilities, kick ideas around, and yes, have little fits of paranoia.  If you see a problem, or belief that I seem to have, here, and it bugs you, but I never bring it up to you, ask you about it, or directly imply it when speaking with you, then it probably is nothing for you to worry about.  Now, if on the other hand, you don't like something I write that is more of the factual... tough luck buddy.  You are in MY mind.  If you don't like it, blog off.  I am what I am, I did what I did, I will do what I do, and only some of that can be addressed, even if I wanted it.

Yes, I have seen... doubts in eyes.  I have had people glance away, or... such.  Yes, I do know you read here.  I may not ever have hunted a bear, I never went after a mountain lion or a rhino, but I have dealt with men on both sides of the hunt, and women too, if the two were usually different the tactics can be quite similar.  I have known literally thousands of people, personally, well.  I am better at reading people than you really have any reason to believe.

I'm still not sure if it is thought that I am completely full of crap, or full of it but entertaining (until I'm not), or... what.  I think there is confusion, to a degree.  Men say, if it smells like crap (or I don't like it), then it is crap.  Women are more like, well, yeah, but... Are you sure it's crap, I mean, it could be...  No, dear, it's crap.  And yet even they... wonder.  I see it, when you don't look at me (and have no reason not to), when you avert your eyes, or even when you look right into my eyes without... seeing.  I don't care, just... I do notice.  I almost hate this blog, sometimes, for that reason.  But... this is simply what I thought would be a personal tool to... think things out, relive memories, try to keep a bit of a schedule... keep myself on better track, even live out fantasy to see how it might work out or look when pseudo printed.  If you have a problem here, like I said, the problem is yours.  Deal.  You do realize, I may or may not take you on a long walk over a short pier, don't you?  Even if I happened to be insane, which I don't think is true but let's play your game and say I am... I'm not stupid and insane.

Not quite.

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Sleep doesn't always happen as I would wish it.  I called my friend earlier today and he needs to shop and we will see if the mountain paths are open to travel in order to shoot just a bit.  A pistol apiece, along for the ride, just in case.  I set the thing up to try and not fall back into the pit.  Perhaps with a bit of shopping, travel, and shooting I might find myself ready to shovel and pick tomorrow.  Being able to do something nearly everyday makes the... sense of urgency fail.  If I could dig another foot or maybe two into where I was digging I might have enough room to dig out under the faucet itself.  The deeper the thing gets the further back I need to chip out in order to even be in the hole, or possible to get out of the hole.  Clay, I am told, is what I am digging.  Well, and rocks.  Roots seem to grab rocks as well, pulling them around themselves like shields.  A half hour might see me to a big enough hole to truly begin digging down.

Paranoia has visited.  While I still get the sense that people have been in my home, what was missing has been found.  There were only three places the items could have been.  I put things in a specific place, when I am storing up on short to medium term items.  These where there but had been set aside, out of place just a bit, then covered up.  All good.  And, no, these weren't actually items ornery rugrats would have taken, I was just... using misdirection with that.  You can't blame me for being a bit paranoid though, on these matters.  The last few places I lived I had people breaking in and really taking lots of things.  I knew it but could do little about it, though the new locks the owner put on my door did actually stop most of it.  You get a little... touchy.  It wasn't even losing stuff.  If someone needs, and asks, I would give what I could.  Lend-lease sort of thing.  I give you sugar today, perhaps I get flour from you tomorrow.  I don't mind.  Even if I never need I always have that... relationship.  And my larder is yours if you are short and really in need, almost doesn't matter who you are, if I have it to offer.  Don't... care... about... stuff... unless I am right about to eat it!  :p

My prayers continue.  Sometimes just in my mind, sometimes out loud.  I've got the main prayer down to sections.  One section is my standard devotional.  Thank you for breath, life, not killing me as a child or young adult as I might sorely have deserved, and the rest.  Another part is just about women, a wife, me, and how to mix, stir, bake, and not run away, run away fast.  Sir Robin?  Indeed.  I have, from time to time, a special section regarding people in need.  Sometimes I know of no one troubled, so simply pray for the weak, foolish, hungry, lost, ill, and such, oh, and enemies.  Currently I have a number of people on the list, my enemies are more... the enemy over there... at the moment.  And another section is for the Church, various ministries in the Church, the laity, and all, up and down the ascension, nun to our Pope.  For wisdom there and for people to step forward to fill the roles.  Sometimes it's a mouthful, sometimes if I am quite tired I just suggest God knows what is in my heart, touch on key points or needs or people, and leave it there.  My silent little prayers are often for the first hearing that someone is in need, or about particularly bad or evil news, or when a thought comes to mind that... I would rather send away or possibly cherish.  You know, it doesn't have to be all formal or just for bad things or wants?

I best be off to try to sleep again.  I suggested my friend call around 11:00 or 12:00.  I may not get eight or even six hours of sleep in.  As long as I get some rest and a bit of sleep I should be good.

I did see two article regarding women and choosing their mates.  One article makes it seem that women make snap (3 minutes max) decisions.  Though the writer of the article seems to understand my own thinking as I come about on some matters, albeit they do it from a woman's perspective or side of things. The other article indicates decisions are dependent on a woman's cycles, she will choose a playboy at high noon, a beta the rest of the time.  And, yeah, that makes ugly sense from what I have seen.  It sure makes me wonder which I am now considered.  It helps me understand the hit and miss thing for me.  Now, which am I though?  Heh.  Puzzle me this...  If I am seen as alpha, that is an excellent thing.  I have some built in beta with the house, an income, and being ill, mostly.  Seriously.  Or... is it the other way around.  Ghah!  Enough thinking for the night.

Good night.

Okay, yeah, I see that.

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The problem?  Finding women who will fit a simple formula.  And, yes, it has to fit.  She needs to be able and willing to marry in the Catholic Church, she has to be able to have children and be completely open to that, and she has to be willing to be a stay-at-home mom.  That is a rather short list, a rather constraining one as well.  Oh, sure, I can meet women.  I have met women.  There are women available to me right now, though probably not for marriage.  And there are thousands of women all around, some of them worthy of a strong pursuit.  But with the huge lopsided random variables that I would need to but won't be setting aside.

A quick review of suggested places to meet women comes up with the same things I used to use.  Bars were not a good place to find a woman, for a number of reasons.  The other places, such as grocery stores, sporting events, and such offer some chance of an encounter, but a completely random encounter... one based on appearances, mutual interest, the very things I am needing to get away from to a degree.  While those are great if you are willing to completely adjust your goals, or simply free-style the thing, this is where my mechanical hang-up is.

The suggestion that comes up the most, as the most reliable, is through building contacts.  Well, yes.  That is what I am doing, as poorly as I do it.  This method takes the most time, being relatively new to a new area.  I think, absolutely, this is probably the most likely scenario.  It isn't perfect, it isn't what my nature likes, but to get from the point a of bachelorhood to point b of being married as I have described, it is probably the only way.  Now, I am trying to become involved anyway.  So that isn't as big of a strain as it might have been, say, ten years ago.  I live in a place where society is sane enough to contemplate taking part in it.  And, while I would like to do more, sometimes I just won't be able to be involved.  But, that is going forward.

No, this isn't going to be just running down to the store and buying a loaf of bread.  That never worked for me anyway.  It may, in truth, never happen.  I might be deemed as unfit, and reasonably arguably that might be true.  The women who are presented, if such a thing happens, may not be interested.  I may not be interested.  I really should have figured this out years ago.  I simply didn't have a working model, a faith, nor did I see, being mostly secular, what the payoff would be.  Heck, I still argue that a secular man probably shouldn't commit to marriage.  There simply is no need and a lot of reasons against it.  I might even go so far as to say that if you are a Christian man, weighing all things, at this time in history, marriage might best be abandoned.  As if that isn't happening anyway.  For many.  Why I am called to it, and seriously looking into it... is a personal thing.  A literal calling.  For many mistaken men, it is a repetition of what they saw their parents do, or even what happens in the movies.  Ser-us-ly.  A behavior based on laws and social notions that are no longer in play.  Bah!  Something like that.  Still, given my marching orders, despite my uneasiness, that is my plan.

It actually looks like I am doing, as ably as I can, the right things.  I am casting my nets in the correct waters, or at least I have found the right waters.  I am focusing myself on my past and present in order to produce a better future.  I am even thinking about any possible Mrs., and tending to her real needs, before having met her.  I will be her guardian, that needs to start, albeit reasonably, beforehand.  I can't treat a woman as a lump of pleasurable flesh in my mind or during our initial dustup only to later come to be protective.  Trust me, that doesn't work.  It might work for some, but I see that as the incorrect way.  There are little strands of things I am seeing, things that work, things that don't work, things that are neutral, and how they need to be twined together, not just... something...  Sort of like playing a piano using several fingers and both hands rather than pecking at the keyboard with one finger.  Much better music is produced when fully engaged.  Yeah, I'm... doing okay.

Well, and actually, I am now in a place, an area of the country, where marriage is still held as valid, where wives are lauded for being heart and hearth of the home, and where mothers are honored and respected.  I have a home.  I've been moving this way for a long time, come to think of it.  I suppose I should just relax a bit and enjoy the journey too.  It's been a long one.  A good one.  God sort of sneaks good things up on you when you are trying to do His will.  Even if you can't always see it or grow impatient.  Something about forests and trees perhaps.

Good day.

When you can't sleep or stay awake...

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The mind wanders when left to it's own devices.  And, like the thing with the tongue going over the tooth that hurts, the mind finds what is troubling and... digs in.  All good.  The "revert to draft" button fixes a fixated mind.  Although, in writing, I did see the immature nature of my life.  Yes.  That want of freedom, a freedom that as a bachelor I know doesn't really exist.  It is sort of the difference between freedom of and freedom from religion.  It can be difficult to see at certain angles but it is certainly there.

I ended up finally getting to bed around 9:00 or 10:00 or maybe even 11:00.  I was so bombed when I went to bed at 8:30 and yet I simply could not sleep until a good deal later.  I'll be working on that.  Though, for the moment, I am sort of driven by health?  I did push this weekend, and my body pushed back, most likely.  All good, I did some good work.  I stood up and tried to at least show some support for what I say I believe.  It was, comparatively, rather weak.  But it was everything I had and then some, by the feel of things.

Bones and body are on the mend.  Actually, now, the only real pain I have is from sleeping so awfully.  The legs and back are still a bit stiff, not painful.  I am hoping to roust around tomorrow and get back to shoveling.  I am hoping to stretch the digging up to a half hour, though I won't promise that.  Even today I may get nothing done, as was the case yesterday.  My goals failed to be fulfilled.  I hope to do more.  As I hoped yesterday.  As I hope tomorrow.

Did anyone else hear that Eduardo Saverin, co-founder of Facebook, had denounced his US citizenship?  Oh, some people are jumping mad about it.  To be honest I am not.  If I was about to come into a ton of money like that I would be on the first boat off this shipwreck, or definitely considering it.  How much has he already paid, and to what ends, what thanks?  One must realize there are... problems with renouncing US citizenship.  He may well learn that.  Money can be a comfort, and great money can permit access, freedoms, possibilities.  It can also become an anchor in an angry see of hungry people, greedy people and governments everywhere, and lots of mischief.  Then again, isn't that why he is ending his US citizenship.  Be angry all you want, I can't say I blame him, at all.  His family left their home nation because of kidnapping threats, he is leaving this nation because of direct threats to his wealth (HIS WEALTH).  Oh, and leave California even if you can't quite leave the US.  Stop giving in to stupid, economically suicidal, politics and policies.  Just quit feeding the machine that turns your money into mulch, and doubles down by printing more money reducing the worth of your wealth further and on top of it!  He is not denouncing the US as a nation, he is denouncing the current US theft of his money.  Yikes.  

All good.  Have a good day.

Ah, that might explain some things.

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B.S. testing and analysis.

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Oh, not b.s. as in bachelor of science, by the way.

Sitting here thinking about recent events, discussions, posts written, and life in general, I blushed about some of the things I have stated.  Some of it because it was true and might ought to have not been expressed, or at least in the way it was communicated.  Sometimes because I question the, urhm, absolute validity of the material as expressed.  Oh, you... didn't notice?  Hushemup.

Now, I know, I am not the only man on the planet who does any of that, and more as that just covers some of the bragging, stretching, and even outright fabrication that can go on.  My deal is that I express things more often than most guys.  I talk and write a goodly deal.  So, that nature of man ends up being... rather well covered here.  I don't mind.  Put two hunters or fishermen in the same room for a bit, if you want to ramp it up add in a six pack of beer and... you will hear some amazing stories.  Some of what was hunted or caught, if... not officially recorded.  And some of what got away or was released or allowed to live out of the goodness of a man's heart.  *grins*

First thing, while the story telling can end up with a heaping helping of b.s., it usually isn't based on whole cloth.  True, a fisherman probably never caught a 30 pound German Brown, or took an 18 point buck.  It could be, but it might just be a stretch.  The thing is the man probably did catch a large fish or hunted a rather goodly sized buck.  There usually is something to the smoke, sometimes even the truth.

Another issue is that, while a man might have done those things exactly or thereabouts, it doesn't mean he would necessarily run right out and do those things again.  If he said he fought four guys and won, and even if he did, it doesn't mean he wants to go out and relive the "glory".  At the time he was simply trying to survive, literally if what he is saying is true.  That part... doesn't always make the editor's cut.  Same goes for dealing with women.  The more women you have been involved with, should you try to come clean in life, the more difficult it is to deal with even one woman.  It's easy to... revert to bad habits, regarding women.

The other thing I noticed is that, when people realize you are indeed what you are, they wonder why you don't act like you did.  If he is such a womanizer, and catcher of women, why does he just... sit there?  If he is such a fighter, why isn't he out looking for trouble.  I covered the why, this is more about social expectation.  Some guys live vicariously off the backs of wretches.  I have been a wretch, of sorts, if just as often accidentally or incidentally.  I don't wish to continue being so.  I will say this though, if you see me in such a situation, you probably will realize that my stories aren't all stretch and no truth.  You might even realize that my stretching is rather light, when it does occur.  Still, that isn't to say I don't say things in a rude or direct way.  And I might stretch a tad on this or that.  But mostly, if I stretch, it is to make it look like what I did I absolutely meant to do and had no fear while doing it, or such.

On another subject, reading a blog about alphas, I noticed that the "code of alpha" was to remain calm.  To back things off or up if the wrong tone is presented.  Now, while I seemingly do that, and very well, on the inside?  No, I might be shaking in my boots, I just don't (apparently) seem to show it.  That does keep things in my court.  Despite, in truth, often having no idea what something "being in my court" means or how to use it.  I just muddle through.  I can buy time with a stone cold face, that doesn't mean I know what to do.  Which does make me question whether I am alpha or just a look-alike through trial and error, or even, like wise men who are said to be wise merely by not saying anything... I just get a rap for an absence of presence?

I realize that my size is part of why I try not to express feelings visually.  When someone my size even scrunches his face a bit...  I've seen women cry at a slight facial expression of disapproval. *grins*  I sort of have to be careful.  Oh, when I am truly angry, people duck.  Unless they were intending to fight anyway, though a good grimace has changed minds.  I wonder how much size has to deal with the perception of being alpha?  I am enough outside of the normal size to be considered different, size wise.  Not just big, but huge, really.  If not quite, or just barely depending on your thoughts, a giant.

So, there you go.  I have no idea if any of it is true, but that's my take.  More questions than answers, but that is what I do.

The aspirin has helped a great deal.  I don't hurt nearly as much, if stiffness remains.  A bit more goofing then on to a bit of work.  Laundry, cleaning the toilets, and setting up the extra bed is all I have planned.  If I can do more I will.  Maybe being awake yesterday might help me get back to a day schedule.  I will try to get to bed earlier, too, if at all possible.  Supper arrived today and took me a bit by surprise.  I, somehow, was thinking it was still Sunday and I had just gotten supper.  Working during a normal sleep schedule really makes things fuzzy sometimes.  Too funny.  Later.

Nice "nap"!

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Then again, there wasn't really a choice.  After I woke a bit more I realized that I truly did hurt.  The back, from standing, wasn't too bad, by itself.  The legs, from picking and shoveling, weren't horrible.  And my arms weren't too bad, from the jarring.  But toss in that I worked well out of my usual time to be awake, the aches and pains, and maybe just a bit of "just because" and I went down like a sack of potatoes.  I'm not sure when I finally went back to bed, I did resist (probably took a penalty for resisting too).  It just hit 18:00 and I am just getting up.  Another dose of Anacin, my meds, a bit of food in my face, and... I'll just have to see about today.  I won't do any pick work but I might be able to get some other things in.  Finishing off the laundry would be a good mostly off my feet job.  Perhaps organizing the last of my move out of my main bedroom, getting the other bed set up.  Yes, mother, I know that was already... I know I told you before... Well, it isn't done.

My hope is, come shine or rain, regardless of how much sleep I get, and despite this, that, and the other thing, is to do a bit of work every single day save Sunday.  I will take Sunday off, if at all possible, if I can get on a roll.  I don't care what work I do as long as I get an half hour in at least.  If I can do more, great.  If I can get to the heavier stuff, even better.  Though, as I said, the little stuff is probably more difficult.  Sorting, storing, deciding on inane little things.  Much of modern life has allowed even bachelors to have sewing kits, requires much paperwork for even someone who isn't required to file taxes, and such.  And, I am not the best at dealing with where all that is supposed to go.  If I put it up the chances of finding it again is slim.  (Chances, when discussing one set of them... I have always used "is", not "are", right?)  Anyway.

Oh, I could finally clean the toilets too.  No dishes.  Even with the painkillers I just don't want to test that.  I still am not sure how much I can push, how much of what I am is sloth, whether I truly am lazy or sick.  I may never know.  But as summer approaches I know that I can, seemingly, do more.  I become less lazy, or more able.  While, true, it isn't quite here yet, I find myself in a position to prep for it.  Who knows what I can get done this year, even without my mother here to... help guide.  I am hoping to have some improvements done, have things a bit better for her if possible cleaning wise, sort of to impress her.  As well, so she will feel more at ease taking a break and going on a mini-vacation while she is here.  If there is work to be done she doesn't feel like vacationing.  It bugs her mind.

So...  I need to figure out jobs for low days and jobs for high days.  I need to sort both types of jobs into some kind of schedule.  I probably shouldn't shovel every day, quite yet anyway, if I might try to increase my time at shoveling to an half hour.  One of my jobs is going to require some serious standing time, too... getting the wallpaper off the wall.  Five to seven layers of it off concrete will take some doing.  As for the drywall?  That may just need to be replaced.  I am not sure if that is a starter job, though.  However, if I can show my mother that I am truly working on getting the paper off she might be able to stick with just helping me keep on target with redoing the kitchen floor this year.  Negotiate, friends...  Give a little, ask a little, prove your point, walk the walk, as you are able.

Youch...  I keep stretching to try and get things... back into kilter.  I know I am not the only one who does this.  Like when you have a sore tooth and you keep checking it with your tongue.  Just to make sure?  I dunno, but it seems to be a common human thing.  Every half hour or so I twist my back, just to check, then mess with my legs.  Yep, still sore!  Heh.  It probably helps, at least the stretching part.  The tooth thing?  I think we just think we deserve to hurt or something.  Masochists!  :p

Good day.

Do I exaggerate, get it wrong?

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Of course! Oh, I definitely dip a bit into the world of fancy. I do so for many reasons, including a belief that I am somewhat read locally, and from certain sectors, and sometimes just because until I have a topic down I may well flirt with a number of different or even opposing lines of thought. I misdirect, use metaphor, analogy, parable, and other tools. My goal is to work out my ideas here, but in such a way sometimes that no one has any idea who, what, or where. I have noticed even that doesn't always work or what I did makes someone I wasn't discussing think they are who I was discussing. Yes, I can read you. Most people wear their hearts on their sleeves far more than they might think. There are a few I can't see into, not many. With them I listen to verbal cues. What I can't see or hear is darned good at cover, not foolproof though. You, yes you, I probably know if you read here or have heard about what I wrote.

As for being a delicate flower? Not so much. You could tell me I am an idiot. I would agree for my own part if we might part ways on what you think I did that was foolish. You might even declare that I should be shot, to my face. Really, so long as you didn't try to carry it out, I would merely try to get to the bottom of the problem. I might even agree with you, though I would hope to negotiate a lighter sentence. You really aren't going to hurt me, emotionally. It's not even that I am a stone, though I am probably closer to that from being tried than most. I am quite stable. I simply let my thoughts roam, I have guilt about some things rightly or wrongly (if I do try to change or seek forgiveness and guidance on some issues). I use anonymous others to beat up on me in some ways at some times, too. That offers perspective, or allows me to figure things out, or even gives me an opposing force through which to create a defense or defenses. Much like playing chess alone is one method of learning the game and one's own difficulties, weaknesses, and strengths.

Along with all that, add a good dose of humor. Even my darkest pieces, some of them, if you look not at the darkness but what is not dark in the posts, you might get a nose bleed from laughing. For a physical example, take a black and white picture and reverse the coloration. While that isn't necessarily funny, with ideas it can be. If you have a certain sense of humor. Actually, many of my posts, including some where I am frustrated or confused, are written with the lightest of hearts. While I can be moody. Not treacherously so, just... I have moods and can express things through the lens of my moods in an exaggerated fashion. I can also be artistic, theoretical, cynical, and the rest. Just don't take what I write as my absolute final answer, or necessarily too seriously if I will sometimes write that way too.

Mostly, on topics unrelated to efforts or mundane life, I write with a direct intent. That doesn't mean I believe everything there, specifically. More generally I do believe, or at the moment, what I am writing. You should walk away with a general idea or three. I try to include some caveats, doubts, concerns about my take on things but sometimes there are none. No, I don't believe everyone in this valley who has met me would see me hung, drawn and quartered, then beheaded at one time. I don't believe anyone would actually, probably, do that currently if it were in their power, mostly. I only mean that I have a serious way of pissing off even kindly old men and women, so the younger lots can stew much more profoundly. I do have a way with that, if it isn't necessarily something I mean to do. I do, however, think that I fall below contempt for a number of people in a number of ways. That I do believe. Rightly or wrongly. The ones who have a point, if it is in my power, I am trying to change that outlook (if for me more than them). The ones who simply don't understand where I am at and what I am, I pray that they find their way to understanding.

It's still a bit funny, but if I were falling off a cliff... I would take just a bit of time to chuckle at the thing, if I had the time. How did I get here? Ah, okay. Heh... Zounds this is going to hurt.

Sleep was GREAT!

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I think.  I have no idea what really happened.  I went in and laid down.  My neighbors brought over dinner, calling first.  I woke and got the call.  They call first, usually.  Then I had dinner.  I don't remember much of any of it.  Something something about something, then... here I sit.  I don't remember dressing, undressing, redressing to answer the door...  I don't remember eating so much, just that I did, or going back to bed.  And sleep?  I feel rested, I feel a bit less sore and stiff, and my brain is again working.  Other than that... it's a blank slate.  I actually really enjoy that notion.  No, it wasn't hard work, none of what I have done in the last three days.  Add it up and it, for my condition, was epic.  I have only slept like that back in a time when the Navy had me working myself to the bone.  I loved it then, too.  I was born to push that edge, and raised right.  Sleep like that simply doesn't come from a pill box, it is earned.

I still hope, tomorrow, to get out and get to it.  The neighbor boy who was primarily helping?  He... lost the front tire of his bike, went over the handlebars or summit, roadrashed one side of his face and fractured the other side too, somehow.  Yeah, he is in recovery mode.  Add him to your prayer list if you would be so kind, he's on mine.  So the digging is all mine.  And I have claimed the bedroom and on suite tasks.  So... I really need to get to work.  I really hope to continue the work.  There is a chance of it too.  As the weather warms and perhaps as I come into warmer weather mode I will be able to do keep up some moderate work load each day.  Just a half hour there, an hour here, and such, will see these things to completion before I know it.

One thing though, if I am going to be trying to work more with the KoC and others, being on my feet long, I need to find better dress shoes.  For me that is the weakest link.  While I eschewed Florsheims and the like decades ago, there has to be something out there that would fit and are comfortable and supportive.  I have gone with decent Oxfords for now.  While not as jarring, and certainly not as biting into my ankles, they are not good for all day.  I have never been good at being on my feet all day.  My knees are a weak link too.  Too tall, or a feature of some tall people I believe.  My lower back always feels like I just fought a guy who excels at kidney punches.  Well, you have to remember, when I fought, I never fought with rules. I still laugh when I remember someone saying, "and he cheated".  Non-fighters simply don't understand, or think rules for boxing or wrestling mean anything on the street.  I might start my search for all day dress shoes anew.  Damn the price and torpedoes!

I'll see how stiff I am tomorrow.  I'm feeling okay right now, sitting.  I might get a bit more sleep in later, too.  Sleep does me a ton of good that way.  I sure am excited about the last few days though.  There's life in the old boy yet!  If I can keep that going, coral some of the energy coming in and turn it into work, I can really get some things done, add to my fitness level, and even turn that into some play time before long.  Everything I do seems to have to be created from whole cloth.  It would be good to get to some modicum of health from which to spring into new demands.  This may be another false promise, empty hope, but it's what I have.  It's as much as I have had in a long time.  If I compare it to my life in Iowa, my last decade or more?  I am doing a lot more.  I remember for long stages of years where the best I did, sum total, was get out of bed.  And my supreme function was to get out of bed at a regular hour for weeks or months.  There was engineering school.  The thinking wasn't a problem if I didn't nose dive into sleep.  The hard part was being up and at school everyday, but not because of the physical work.  When I had a woman, she actually would eventually help regulate my internal clock, working until I pushed too hard, then having to recover before getting back to some regularity.  Just... thinking, remembering.

Hmm, to some reading.  Have a good night, morning, or such.

That went well.

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I showed up perhaps a bit before 9:00.  The guys cooking were already at it but there were seemingly a dozen or so in the small kitchen.  Looking around I noticed that tables and chairs were being arranged, so I just jumped in like I knew what I was doing.  There were two of us.  Another fellow came along shortly who had a better plan and so we did that.  The rest of the time I was there was just trying to actually be doing something, avoiding others who were doing something, and taking work orders when those arrived, until the meal began.  Then I was, for the most part, just a server, ham cutter, and such.  After, I had a bite to eat, then helped with a bit of cleanup, and processed then chopped four heads of garlic.  The next group would be arriving soon but there was little I could do.  It wasn't my legs, arms, or even being tired, it was my back.  That is the longest I have been on my feet in...  No, I mean...  I have no idea?  Since the Navy?  Close to it.  I let a few of them know I was going, then I headed out.  I was a little disappointed that I wasn't going to ride the thing to the end.  I really had hoped to do that.  In truth, I ended up staying longer than I thought might be the case.  I did what I could. 

I am hoping, as these things come up, that I can become more a part of them.  I enjoyed doing it.  I don't mind a little or lot of work.  I will do what I can for as long as I can.  Just so long as it is understood that when I have to go it isn't really a choice.  It is nice to see the guys, and serving the public means meeting women.  On the service side, it simply is good to get out and do something that ends up meaning something.  Who knows, maybe I can learn to handle a bit more.

You know, actually, that is three days in a row where I have gotten some serious (for me) work in.  I am not planning on anything tomorrow.  Not because I will do nothing, simply that usually by the third day, when I hit the accelerator I about get my ankle broke from the kickback of a dead horse, somehow.  Take that analogy and smoke it!  But, if I can keep this run going, I will get to work.  Today?  No.  I will try to stay awake as late into the afternoon as possible.  Mostly I am going to just tinker, read, whatever.  My goal is 17:00, but if I can somehow push it to 19:00 I will.  I won't try to push it later, it doesn't work well.

Later or good... afternoon... in a good night sort of way.

Happy Mother's Day.

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Mary, on this day when we honor all mothers, we turn to you. We thank the Lord whom you serve for the great gift of motherhood. Never has it been known that anyone who sought your intercession was left unaided by grace. Dear Mother, thank you for your “Yes” to the invitation of the angel which brought heaven to earth and changed human history. You opened yourself to God’s word and the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us.

Dear mother, intercede for all of our mothers. Ask your Divine Son to give them the grace of surrendered love so that they could join with you in giving their own “Fiat.” May they find daily grace to say yes to the call to the sacrificial love- the very heart of the vocation of motherhood. May their love and witness be a source of great inspiration for all of us called to follow your Son.

On this Mothers day, Mother of the Word Incarnate, pray for us who have recourse to you…

In the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

(right properly stolen from Catholic Online)

And on a personal note, thanks for putting up with all my rugrattery.  I was a fine rugrat as far as finding out what annoyed you and doing it au naturel.  Nothing personal, I just... well...  I had to find out just... what happened if I...  You know the rest, what you can remember.  Thanks for the good eats, teaching me to wash behind my ears and such, trying to show me right and wrong, and the rest.  I do appreciate it if I might not always seem to show it.  I love you.

Tingling feeling?

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Well, yes.  But not in the Mathews-Zero way.  I slept well!  I went to bed a bit past... midnight (or something, I just cannot recall exactly).  I set an alarm for 5:00 and one for 6:00.  Setting them each an hour later just didn't seem like it would work, assuming (at that point) that I could even sleep.  I laid down, said a relatively short prayer, and then even 'thought' to God as the hammer was coming down.  Then I just rested a second and... *Bzzzz!*  I woke with the memory of three dreams.  As I hastened to shut off that first alarm, then use the facilities then hie back to bed, since I didn't peg the dream memories into concrete thought, they got lost.  Sometimes I can't hold onto them no matter what I do, other times if I think about them a bit first then I can keep all or most of them.  An hour later, of course, the second alarm went off.  Not yet!  My mind whimpered.  Fine.  I set the alarm back an half hour since an hour would be too much and the snooze absolutely SUCKS.  Five minutes?  I'm an addict, don't tease.  In there somewhere, something came to me.

I wrote, before, that I had made almost anyone in the valley who knows me well enough, atheist, agnostic, Catholic, LDS, and women (who have their own religion I think? :p) angry enough to consider ending my wretched life.  I wrote that there was a bit of respect that kept them from doing so.  I got the feeling that that wasn't true.  It was simply something between not wanting to go to jail and letting me suffer.  Heh.  Oh, I don't mind.  I just... thought it was funny.  I wanted to correct my mistake.  Just a feeling but it is there.  Why I would wake to that thought I don't know.  Someone(s) must be thinking of me.  I can hear you NOW.  *chuckles*

I am well pleased that I won't have to suffer through this day of mild effort as much as I had thought.  The sleep was short but wonderful.  Having had no sleep was going to be the hard part, not the work or such.  I can't say I deserve the sleep, like the blisters.  I can only say that God seems to bless those, at times, who attempt to do what He has set before them.  Sometimes there is nothing to do but suffer.  And I would have done that too, gladly really.  Not this time.  And while I would have suffered, it is good, some days, to get that particular cross lifted from my shoulders, pathetically small as that cross is in the scheme of things.  Now the upper back of my legs are stiff as boards, but, oddly,  don't actually hurt (yet?).  No other pains persist from picking and shoveling and the rest.  A few Anacin and I should be right as rain in case pain arrives as my brain fires up.  Medicine went down the hatch too, that's... four days on that.  If I think I have time I might check my bp.

I need to polish my shoes, shower, and dress, then drive to Church.  Technically I have an hour and a half.  Ugh but time flies.  An half hour already gone and that was just... feeding the cats, writing this blog, letting Sam out for a bit, and... what else?  Never mind.  I better set the timer for an half hour so I am aware of things.  Just to feel out where I am and such.  I am totally blind when it comes to time.  I want to be heading out between 8:00 and 8:30, I just... I do have real things to do and only one speed currently.

Good day.

Some days...

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If I could have even three days a week like this I would be quite pleased.  If I could have two pair of days like the last two days I would be ecstatic.  I have the last load to dry doing so.  I've finished off most of the dishes, two of the pots, and am soaking most of the rest, plus I washed the stove top.  For a treat I made a pan of fried gizzards.  I may do a bit more before I sleep.  Polishing my shoes would be good.  Cleaning the toilets would be good.  Perhaps doing another load of dishes too.  I did skip the nap but it might be time to try that, actually.  With two alarm clocks and my mother calling there is a decent chance something would get through if I happened to be able to stay down and sleep longer than I expect.

I noticed blisters on my hands.  Oh, I don't mind.  Actually I like blisters.  They mean work has been done.  My only problem with them is that I don't feel like I truly deserve them, I don't think I worked all that hard.  I have grown soft.  If I keep it up I might get calluses back.  Calluses are great when you have to do something by hand and you simply don't have gloves available.

I am rather at ease too.  My mind and body are going along pretty well.  I have gotten back to praying and started my medicines.  I am focusing a part of my prayers directly regarding a wife.  No, I'm no closer than I ever was to finding a wife if I have a better idea of why I wasn't really working at that, and why I shied away from a couple of serious possibilities.  I just wasn't ready.  I'm still not ready.  I'll keep my eyes open a bit more though.  I'll try to take up leads when I find them, a lot more quickly.  The truth is if I could meet ten women of the right configuration,  so to speak, there is a chance that I would accept none of them.  And, of course, even should I find one or two, the one(s) I choose might not accept me.  I won't worry about that so much, at this point.  Actually, I won't worry about that at all.  I don't even care about that part.  It's what comes after finding one that I accept who finds me acceptable that is the problem.  Though, I have to admit, the chance of finding a wife with no women available is... rather slim.  I don't think God uses the same trick twice... and I like my ribs just as they are.  All that wrestling with God... and He only noticed because He wanted to notice.  I don't even think I scraped off what we might call dead skin.  :p

Yeah, a nap.  I'll deal with whatever there is to deal with when I wake up, if I wake up in a timely fashion.  The bits of work left to do would be a great way to come back to life, get the brain and body in sync.  I am not worried about putting in effort at the brunch I am more worried about getting there.  I can slog through most things if I can just get to them.  The adrenaline from having so many apex predators around, even if we are connected, keeps me more on my toes.  Though a pot of coffee first might be good, if possible.

Have a good night.

Phone tag.

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I finally was able to get my mom on the phone.  I'm not sure who started it but for days now we have been playing phone tag.  She asked for a bit of advice.  I want to think on it.  I think she should continue with all she is doing, if she can.  Somethings, like water off a ducks back, especially since she isn't really involved, might be the best way, and just braving on.  I'll talk to her again soon about it.  I do have some ideas to make some parts of her job easier, though, too.  I'll be looking up something specific soon.  Besides, I know she wouldn't be happy underperforming.  While I do it, I hate it.  I am definitely her son, if broken.  Get 'er done.

I picked and shoveled a bit again today.  While my arms are a bit stiff, mostly from being jarred when the pick or shovel comes to a quick stop, it is my legs that are barking a bit.  I am surprised my midsection isn't bothering me but those muscles aren't even mildly, timidly, yipping or even letting me know they exist.  I dug another part out, perhaps 2/3rds what I did yesterday.  Then again I had three big roots to dig around then chop out.  It is an actual manhole now, big enough for a man to get down in and take it deeper.  The faucet pipe is absolutely rigid still.  I am pretty sure the hole is between two and an half and three feet deep.  Still the pipe isn't budging a bit.  I suspect by week's end, with a little help, the thing will be done, graveled, repiped, buried, and spitting out water like a spigot ought to do.

Dishes have gotten a fresh soak, the toilets have been sprayed down again, again, again, and the first load of laundry has gone into the washer while I tumble the other clothes just a bit.  I don't mind wrinkled clothes.  If women don't like them, and I've never known a woman who does, she will have to figure that out.  Should I find a woman.  If not, wrinkled is good.  I am seriously thinking about a pan of gizzards tonight.  I am loving lard hard now that I am using it more regularly.  But I may add a bit of butter to the fat this time, just out of curiosity.  Oh?  Bad for your heart?  :p

Hmm, I may try to take a quick nap though first, while everything is running and after letting the pick, shovel, and axe beat me into the ground a bit.  Yeah, that might help.  I know I won't be able to sleep otherwise.  My mom offered to call me in the morning... pick me up like a coach might to a first time marathoner.  I ought to check what I have for coffee too.  Soda just doesn't have that much zing.  A pot of coffee will see me to the event, after that I should be good.  My body will probably need a day or two off after this weekend.  Maybe more.  We will see.  I suppose I will hold off my nap until the laundry is dry, then switch things over and nap. 

All's well otherwise.  Later.

Just a few kinks in the process.

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Pleased to have done even the little bit I did yesterday and this morning, and after a goodly if short prayer, I slept like a baby.  Just waking an hour or two ago I realize I have a few kinks.  None of the work, even the pick and shovel work, was all that difficult.  I have simply not be active so the combined works have a few of my body parts out of adjustment.  If I can roll fast enough though I would like to get out and pick and shovel a bit more, get my shoes and boots polished, do another load or two of laundry, and see about finishing the last of the dishes.  I have pork cutlets thawed and chicken gizzards finishing the thawing process.

By the way, how large is your consumption library?  I mean, what have you eaten in your life?  I have eaten some odd things, by some standards.  I found a list of 100 things people should "eat" in their lifetime.  Actually I have eaten all but a handful.  What I haven't done is had many various drink substances (or rotted/fermented fish).  When you look at the list you may need to actually look up the food.  For example, there were three foods listed that, until I looked them up, I would not have guessed I had eaten them (tongue and heart, for example, which I have cooked in my OWN home, in the last two years).  Oh, and some things look a lot like things I have eaten.  If you have eaten head cheese (not a cheese at all, by the way) I consider that as a fulfillment of one of the items.  And some things are just silly.  If you have eaten little and big squid, does it really matter if you have eaten a particular size (though live might be different but that wasn't on the list I don't think).  Some things just have never been available.  Some things are simply too exotic, using vegetables or fruits from a very small region, probably not even exported or even technically harvested.  I was amazed at how much of the non-drink foods I have had on that list.  Your mileage may vary.

Oh, there was something on there I consider to have been eaten. Something I enjoyed greatly. Something I want to make here at home soon. Bo tai chanh looks absolutely delicious. Now I know I have eaten beef carpacio before, definitely, a number of times. And it is delicious. The other? The last time I ordered something like it, though with a different name I can't remember, I had it explained that it was similar to beef carpacio but did have a distinct citrus note. So, whether I ate bo tai chanh or not is unclear. Still, I really want to make some of that myself. I have had shrimp ceviche, made tilapia ceviche and scallop ceviche. But BEEF ceviche? Woot! Beef AND ceviche... in one dish? Now that sounds delish! Oh, right, my stomach got excited from reading the list, if you can keep the fermented fish (probably). I would love to try true barbocoa too, as well as a thousand dishes I have curiosity about that aren't on the list. Yeah, I might be a foodie. It isn't to be exclusive, though. I'm just... curious... hungry... adventurous.

Hmm, back to the here and now. I did miss Mass. I really didn't see a way around that. I had things to do, could do them, did do them, but couldn't have slept anyway. I can let one goal go in order to make a primary goal. And I might still be able to make Mass tomorrow, depending on what is decided and who needs what no matter what is decided about this and that. I know, I KNOW, but I only have one 'me' and that one isn't so great. You can't make a catfish fry dinner with only carrots, broccoli, and peanuts, 'kay? Yeah, a bit more picking and grinning, then to polishing shoes (and boots while I'm at it), laundry, soaking pots and pans (for now), maybe a meal later if I have time, cleaning toilets, and a pre-shower after that so tomorrow's shower will see me to more of the pick dust out of my hair, maybe all of it. Even with a baseball cap on my bean I must get a pound of dirt in my hair when I do that!

Hmm. Later.

Some things, not all.

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I am definitely running out of steam.  I will have another load of dishes done before long, with two other loads completed already.  The laundry just takes so long that what gets done gets done.  I would love to pack it in and go on to bed.  And I may when the laundry is ready to finally go into the dryer.  Or not.  I have two choices in trying to make it in Sunday.  I can either figure out how to get to sleep earlier or I can figure out how to stay up through the process.  Getting to sleep earlier hasn't been working at all.  Plus, even if I could, there is no guarantee I could wake in time.  So it looks like staying up, powering through, is the only real option.  So, perhaps today, I will power through, get another load of laundry done, and finish the shoe shining and bathroom cleaning I had planned.  I won't, probably, be able to fit in the rest of the dishes, pots and pans actually.  But I could set them to soak.

There is so much to do, I am pushing the clock and my body, and it does hurt.  Pain adds to the need for sleep.  I realize, too, that I may not be able to make Mass this evening, at this rate.  I am trying to make the solution fit the problem and anyone who has solved difficult equations knows that doesn't always work.  Sometimes, through exceptions, givens, and a few other scurrilous methods, that can work.  I'm not sure if I can do this one that way.  Being to Church on Sunday is my primary goal.  The rest...  And yet I am moving forward rather well.  I can sleep Sunday afternoon, if needed.  If we start serving at 11:00, then run until 13:00 or so, and with maybe an hour of clean-up, perhaps I could be home before 15:00?  I best take some extra aspirin.  It can help a bit.

I am just writing to... cheer myself.  Nothing important, just counting off time, taking a break by writing.  I can't fill the whole time with work, more so being slowed by waiting on the laundry, so... I write.  It's good to see, in writing, that the work wanted is being done.  There is that.  On to... other things.  Hmm, no, I think my body is done.  When the laundry and that last load of dishes is done, I think that is it.  Tomorrow is going to be a bear.  I may not do any more shoveling today, or... I'll see when I wake up.  I wish there was a manual that would let me know what I can reasonably expect, how hard to push, how to push in the first place, and such.

Good night... morning.

Hmm, it seems 2:00 is the new noon.

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Not waking up until 16:00, and even with some pick and shove action going, I didn't really become functional until a bit ago.  My first load of laundry is going, I've taken out the trash and recycling after changing out the litter boxes, then I soaked the dishes, sprayed the toilets for cleaning in a bit (oh, the stuff I use in one bathroom is ammonia based, the other is chlorine based... best not mix the two).  I did a couple dozen other minor things as well.  I am hoping to get my shoes and boots polished as well.  I have plenty of clean good clothes for Church and Mother's Day, other than the shoes needing polished. 

I think just shoveling broke the spell I was under.  Just seeing something real get done, and a pretty good load of dirt moved too, and quickly.  A half hour every other day for two weeks could see me to quite a pit if it were needed.  That might be about all I could do, definitely at first though probably I would dive into coma mode pretty quickly.  Still, just seeing that go forward egged me on to seeding the sparse parts of the lawn and then onto a few other things to finally this little work grouping.  Medicine might have helped though too.  It's difficult to tell with that stuff.

I am hoping to do a bit more picking and shoveling tomorrow.  I just want to get the darned thing done.  When I start a project I... get edgy when things go slow.  Done, done, go, go, go.  No, I don't consider the on suite project as started yet.  :p  I am also hoping to get to Mass in the afternoon as I may be required to attend the meal area Sunday through Mass.  There must have been a typo as the meal is set to start at the same time Mass does.  It happens.  I'm not sure if they are going ahead with the printed meal time or not.

I noticed that my home isn't very secure.  Just a few things that are problematic.  A few neighbor kids that might know a trick or have found a key I put up (which is no longer where I put it).  With so many windows, and one door that is mostly glass, super security is impossible (for what use that is anyway, a true castle is very easy to defeat... defense is only a time buying mechanism).  However, new locks, front and back, might help a bit.  I would actually like to put a serious deadbolt on the front door, for now.  Others will go in when I can replace the other doors.  Glass for an entry door?  I swear, people are sometimes absolutely nutty.  Still, it's a good home, just a number of little things to tinker with.  Then again how do you seriously secure 6' by 4' windows?  Sure, I suppose you could... engineer iron grates or steel bars, plus gates and locks... but those are viewing windows.  Do you really want to look out of prison?  Oh, yeah, there are the ones that open.  But those type, the ones that actually work?  You need a crane to install them.  I have trouble doing my little projects and not choking on the price tags.  I am looking at plants that might work well though, thorny ones, higher, bushier, nastier, ones.  Those, of course, mean nothing when a perp is wearing kevlar outers, is high on drugs, or uses a breaching tool (a ladder for example).  Security is a layered thing.  Between neighbors, locks, devices (including plants), perhaps an alarm (just loud and long, not connected to any "operator" (though they even can call me if they are triggered now)), lights, me and my guns...  With police as a first call, last ditch.  Just how fast can they drive 12 or 25 miles or more?  And that is fine.  I wouldn't want a policemen on every corner of every street of every town.  Layers.  People miss the notion that, even if police can't save them on a dime, they are generally reliable in tracking down and prosecuting within reason.  Most nations have cops that can and do beat you on suspicion of involvement... or if they just want to beat you.  We have it pretty good that way.

I don't know how much I can really do.  As projects are completed this summer, and maybe a sun oven finally built this summer too, I will know if I have potential or if I am just blowing smoke.  It would be nice to slowly improve this and that, upgrade here, probably replace the main electric water heater with a gas one, attach the water lines so I get soft water everywhere, improve the doors and locks, and such.  Bit by bit, but to really be moving forward.  We will see.

A couple of hours for the first load.  I will be washing it again.  Some of my shirts have spots and normal washing isn't touching them.  High spin, heavy soil, pre-wash, cold-cold, extra rinse... then probably another simple regular wash using cold-cold again though, then a fluff dry (as usual).  I can probably only get that one load through tonight.  Three and a half hours of washing and an hour in the fluff cycle.  I should be able to wash most of the dishes, clean the toilets, and set out something to thaw.  If it weren't for food coming in these last few weeks I would not have been eating, again.  I really am limited to how much I can do, even just in keeping a kitchen going.  Add in two or three or four projects, Mass, Mother's Day, and a social or two and, well, it... I can choke.  All good.  Life is limping along, perhaps even getting ready to explode a bit.