Snow and sleep.

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I can't say how much snow we got.  I will say that the snow blower will be the tool to use.  We received almost no snow right up until a few days before Christmas, but it looks like it is here for at least a good bit of time, and perhaps for the winter.  All good.  My cousin gave me a notion, regarding snow blowers, in case the snow is really wet.  Pam, sprayed inside the shoot, up and down and all around.  Oils won't work, unless they are atomized.  Okies, but... I don't have Pam, never used it.  And I never did buy an oil atomizer (or two, actually, one for olive oil, one for canola).  They are on my... very long list.  I am not sure they will work but it does move them higher on the list.

Going to bed relatively early today, I was a bit disappointed.  My goal is to shove my cycle around to days as quickly as possible in order to try to grab onto the day schedule ring.  Then I woke at 13:00 and almost couldn't get back to sleep!  Gah, I hate setbacks!  After realizing I was in a pickle, and panicking, I relaxed... soothed my mind somehow, and settled back in to a fine sleep, not waking until a bit after 20:00.  A wonderful sleep, all told, it was.  And I am back on track to eating through this odd schedule.  I only gained an hour today but that will do.

A dream.  I was a homicide detective.  A former widow, mother, and new wife was murdered in her home.  She was shot three times from behind, twice in the torso, once in head.  It was an ugly job, seeming almost professional but obviously not.  Her son had returned home from school in time to run into the killer, got a description, and lived to tell about it.  The son had issues that could make him suspect, but nothing damning.  The husband seemed rather clean.  And the woman didn't seem to have problems that would invite such an event.

Of course, when you go into these things, you never know.  My gut told me the woman was not leading a secret life, the son probably was not the culprit or involved, and I was neutral on the husband but he wasn't standing out up front.  Gut feelings are just that though, you absolutely have to ignore those and follow the leads.  Sometimes you arrest people you thought you really liked.  Sometimes, on very rare occasions, you even understand why they did what they did.  But that is for the courts, law, justice, or whatever real or conceived notions that are meant to deal with these grander things.  My job was finding the killer and tagging them with cuffs.

I woke at this time, and didn't think I could get back to sleep.

Returning to sleep I did end up seeing the rest of the dream.  After thoroughly investigating the boy, I found him to be innocent.  A poor traumatized orphan.  The killer was tracked down, and the son had given a very good description as it turns out.  The murderer was a tough known for causing problems, if murder wasn't in his rap sheet drugs were.  Addiction ended up being his leg into murder for hire.  Being a twit, as they often are, he spilled the beans rather easily.  It was the new husband of the former widow, it involved insurance.  It was satisfying putting him in cuffs.  It was not satisfying realizing the boy was all on his own in a really creepy world.  Seeing a good woman gunned down for a couple hundred grand was another in a long list of pet peeves about this world and life.  At least the killers wouldn't enjoy the vile fruits of their labor.

There was much more to the dream.  Details about this, interviews, tracking people down.  It was probably the equivalent of a three day, two hour episode, mini-series (without commercials or such).  Too much detail to put in here, but fairly common, I suppose, as such things go to bother with the details either.

Hmm, I never did finish the dishes, which I will do this evening.  And I hope to get out and do some snow blowing as well.  If I end up doing that latter I will look over my wood stocks and find something for backing for the drywall repair.  I won't swear I will do the repair, or get to anything, that is just the rough game plan for the moment.  But first of all I have to try to figure out how to wake up!  That has been the rough part for the last while.

Good day.

How to go about planning the re-awakening?

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Being that it is mid-winter, getting anything going is probably going to be tricky just because of the weather and season.  Still, there is no time like the conscious to begin prep.  I would love to suggest that, today, I will simply stay up until 10:00 or even until noon or 14:00.  The simply truth is I am about ready to crash as is.  Coffee, while tasty, does very little to help.  The furnace jacked to 76 does nothing either.  And as I have explained, the day lamp does no more than offer and excellent reading experience while I am crashing (decent for waking up though).  Music was helping, but... that seems to have tapered off.  Over doing that, while downloading, seems to have gone beyond diminishing returns and on into simply decreasing the returns first found.  Still, that confronts me none, as long as I get my payday on the 1st, and I do.

So, what to do.  I have the dishes soaking and I do think I will get to those this morning before sleeping.  I would also like to do a bit of laundry when I wake, plus get a shower in.  I have been too tired, actually to play my game.  Well, I could play it, I just can't focus enough to do some things I want to do with it before becoming too bored to mess with it further.  So I haven't touched the controller in weeks now.  Blogging, reading blogs and alt news, research into gardening, downloading music, and a few other things have conspired to fill the time slots, and have done so fairly well.  Or, well enough for what I can do.

Hmm.  I simply don't have a way to push or pull on sleep.  The alarm clock is as useless as one could dread.  I know, with laundry going forth, should that happen, I think I will finally attempt to repair the drywall!  I think I can do it without much light, and today is supposed to see another storm come in.  When that ceiling is repaired, the light will be up and working and securely anchored.  Two problems in one.  Hmm, but then what?  I simply don't have the wherewithal, right now, to plan too much.  Oh, I know, I will call my friend when I wake and see what his schedule looks like.  Nothing today, with the storm coming in, but maybe tomorrow or the day after?

It was a good Christmas though.  I got some gifts off and in.  A good meal was eaten.  I was... mostly well rested.  :p  Oh, wait, I best call my brother sometime this morning, and wish them a belated Merry Christmas, and make sure they got my card.  No Christmas card, just a letter, but... well... I included what a card would have cost in the gift.  Hmm. ugh...

Good night.  No editing, by the way, I don't have the gumption.

Reading a horror story on Christmas Day?

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Well, yes, and no.  As I finish the Screwtape Letters I realize, at least for a believer, one of faith, a Christian, there is no truer horror than what is written by C.S. Lewis.  Stephen King, or whomever it is who authors books that frighten you, have nothing over Lewis.  Put simply, if you truly believe in God, hell, sin then you can know no greater terror than seeing your sin displayed, discussed, considered as nonchalantly as... ordering a pizza or discussing the weather.  An axe wielding madman who displays your internals before you as your life fades is far less horrific than seeing that you sin every day, and often, as you say you attempt to follow God's path and will.  Take my life, but I beg of you, spare my soul!  Dr. Lewis only allows that you find how to spare your own soul, he doesn't bother sugar coating notions.

For the first 15 chapters I was dodging this sin, and suggesting that one was far removed and that one a thing of the past for which I have sought absolution.  Again and again, my body flinching as if wriggling my toes could allow me to escape the hammerfall of the certainty of one type of sin or another.  At some point, for me at least, a surrender to the notion that I am simply a sinful man takes place.  After a bit more reading, the notion is understood that we are transient beings, coming in and out of the light of God, through sin and grace, and will do so on every day in which we take in and then release gasses so as to continue to function as mortal animals.  The only thing, it is supposed, is that as we hopefully move to attend God's will, we live more and more in His light, through His grace, than not.  Still, it's... rough there for a bit, while reading.  *holds breath so as to not notice the obvious*  So, yes, a horror story is read on Christmas Day.  Ew, and a delightful one if I must say!

In, or more through, this book I have seen other things as well.  Some of those things are a combination of what the author expresses and what I have seen.  A primary charge I lay on folk, here and now, is that no true men like sin, or evil.  Whether they know God explicitly or implicitly matters not a wit.  Men were made in God's image, and that image is contrary to sin, to evil.  One could easily explain this by saying that, exactly, directly, evil is what God is not.  So an image of God would, in all ways save the perfection or maturity of the spirit, be without the possibility of sin.  It is not our form that is sinful.  It is the allowance of a life force, a spirit, that is all our own, that allows for sin.  The difference between knowing God explicitly through knowledge or implicitly through our form is that knowing Him explicitly through His Word(s) (bible and Christ) allows us some tools only knowing God through our form does not allow.  We know we can at least repel Satan himself by invoking the truth of Christ, using His name.  We are shown wisdom and teachings.  We simply have more ways of refuting, and identifying, evil.

Another thought though is that those who know God explicitly... will be held to a higher standard.  Be careful of casting stones, instead... teach by example and through other means.  Much as we ourselves have been taught.

I was invited to a dinner today but I could not attend.  I went to bed as soon as was possible this morning in order to give myself as much of a chance as possible to rise in time.  I set my alarm.  And I put it in my mind to be up.  I thought I had a shot at it.  As it turned out I could no more rise than I could think.  Phone calls, from several sources, busied my phone.  Along with the alarm, the world truly tried to breach my slumber.  But a hibernating bear will not yield his dreamland so easily at times.   I know I heard those things a time or two but honestly couldn't get my mind, my body, the phone, or my voice to work.  I finally woke at 19:00.  Dinner was gifted anyway a short time later.  Thank you very much.

Again, Merry Christmas!

A Happy Christmas?

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Christmas was always a day wrapped by a month of many things in my youth.  There was religion.  At various points Christmas was rather devoted to the Christian ethic.  Other years Christmas was more a devotion to family.  Of course, in the younger years, a child can think of little more than gifts.  That latter is not a thing to be begrudged, either.  Babies do not begin life eating ribeye steaks, either, innit.  Between the various notions, some twisted idea regarding what Christmas was about began to form.  Something along the lines of Jesus riding Rudolph to bring gifts and save the world, unless He saw His shadow?  Well, work with me.  And it has to be admitted that the story does become somewhat convoluted, even in the homes of Christians.

The season, and day, have been set aside as a time away from work, a time to be with family and friends, a time for gift giving and receiving, free time from the normal constraints of life, and in there somewhere has been the notion that some of that time could be given to the Church and shared in other ways with those of faith or in need of charity.  While it might seem that too little time is asked to be donated to Christ for Christians, I won't say that.  I am not sure but that many of the other events are quite Christian.  We are small as people, good things start at home, the honest demands of the world do not always allow us to encapsulate the bases of goodness at home, and so when the time exists, it is quite wise to put such time to good use.  Deeds and sharing do lay supplies in heaven for our benefit there, too.  Further, we understand that too much together time is also not completely as productive as we might fantasize, when we happen to get it.  These times allow us access and balance, to recalculate our time sharing in the future, and indulge a bit in any case.  A chance to learn for the next period until we once again find ourselves in the situation, to once again re-evaluate.

While a Christian myself, for most of my life I have tried to walk closer to God and at times I have strayed further.  I have even, for my part, left the notion of trying to walk with Him if never have I chosen to purely cross against Him either.  Oh, I don't and never have walked with God, to be sure, as I understand now.  God is not on my silly side, I merely try to be on His side, or not at times.  Only, I have, in truth, only acknowledged that He walks with me, even when I have gone astray, if that is all for another discussion.  In this walk, though, I have been and continue to be confused, in fact or fallacy.  One of those facts regards Christmas.

For much of my early and younger adult life, I assumed that Christmas had to include parties, friends, and family.  It must include joy, and nothing but good things like joy.  It had to be about other people, as they pertain to me.  There needed to be grand feasts, presents, and pageantry.  If those things were not present then it couldn't possibly be a Merry Christmas.  The times when those things did not exist, or in large enough amounts for my sake, I felt quite cold.  But then I started noticing something even when such things were there.  In a crowded room filled with people I liked and loved, I was realizing that I was quite alone.  Christmas, and Easter, and some of the other holidays were becoming natural emotional disasters.  I won't even tell you I fixed this, only that it came to be quite nicely repaired in the last... five to seven to ten years.

As it turns out, returning to God, with boots on, belt cinched, and an openness to learn and do His will, on my part, created changes.  None of the changes were fast.  None of them are absolutely certain, even now, just more probable to occur or 'be'.  Very few, if any, of the changes were even conscious objectives I brought to God in prayer.  My prayers are rather simple.  Thanks for food, of course.  Gratuity for just being, living, and loving, but also for the pains and strife and such by which I may grow.  The best of fertilizers are often some of the most awful smelling, innit?  But the main thing I try to impress upon, and deliver to God, is... here I am, use me as you would.  If the Lord sees a wall before His will in me, and I cannot see it for the sty in my eye, then tear it down and give me a poke in the eye for good measure!  Hehe  Show me what is displeasing, I will do it.  And, to my abilities, I do.

As it turns out, the wreckage of my sinfulness was not all there was.  As wrong forms and places in me were being destroyed, other forms have sprung up.  While I, at times, merely saw destruction of the old, God was quite busily building up on solid grounds the home and tool shed and garage and workshop and all the rest that I would need.  Sometimes I truly felt alone in this work, but nope.  He was doing tenfold the work I was doing, and often with my hands he would add to it, while I couldn't see and wouldn't believe, but let Him use me to these ends anyway in faith.  Clenching my eyes closed at times because I wouldn't believe, only to be greatly surprised when peaking through slats in my fingers, like a child... well... on Christmas morning.

So, now, and for some years past and most likely hence, Christmas can be spent alone (if I do truly enjoy company as well) with nary a tear or thought of loneliness.  I do, I must admit, pray to find a woman and begin raising Him a family.  But until or unless that happens, I am quite pleased to celebrate the birthday of my Elder, Senior, Brother in Love and Arms very much happily, securely, and if by needs alone.  Grateful to have one so bold as to be born to temptation He could and did deny, to pick up my cross, to lay down His life, all the while showing and telling me what and wherefore with not even a single hitch in following our Father's will.  Further, He did it without self-glorification, really.  So much to learn...

So it is, another Merry Christmas, with the hopes of a Happy New Year to follow, here more than many places.  I hope you have some kindred notions and a fond Christmas yourself.

Sleeping like a baby. And a Christmas present.

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My sleep is wonderful, actually, lately.  At between seven and nine hours, usually, it has become rather regular.  Waking time is extending an average of two to four hours more than what would allow a 24 hour day.  So my days are creeping ahead between two and four hours ahead, give or take.  All things are slightly subject to being extra tired or alert or sleeping longer or less.  While far from perfect, being on some sort of track is a lot better than the chaotic sleep cycles I am, I think, emerging from.  It means that the next time days pop around into my waking life, grabbing onto a day schedule before I can slide on through again has a decent chance of happening.  The last time I saw days and tried to grab them it was akin to grabbing greased monkey bars.  No amount of grip strength allowed purchase.  A half dozen grabs was nothing but a idealistic mental hand-eye coordination game on the order of catching flies with chopsticks.  How Sassy does it I haven't quite figured out.

I am having to watch my medicines much more closely.  I almost missed them the other day.  That is a bad thing.  It can really throw things, in this delicate stage of recovery and medicine acclimation.  I got right back on them, only having to take night meds with day meds, which usually is fine (if the doctors might have conniptions about such).  Rightly or wrongly it keeps me dosed and doesn't give me any physical or sleep/wake hiccups.  Sometimes it is as good as I can do.  And missing a dose altogether is much more brutal, on my system, in the end, anyway.  Just one dose missed can, if it doesn't always, cause a huge problem.

Oh, the gift!  My drive and walks have been cleared!  No writing in the snow, so I'm thinking Santa snuck in.  Possibly with elves.  No sleigh marks, but he can be tricky that way.  No scat, so I'm thinking the reindeer and sled might have stayed home, ready for the big night.  He certainly can be tricky.  I think, while letting Sam out, I may have heard a "Ho, ho, ho!", either in his stealthy escape or he froze it in the breeze for when I opened the door?  Ho, ho, ho!  Back at you.  :)

Trinkets and noise.

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Hmm?  You ask.  Oh, just sounding off about nothing in particular, not even angrily, as my mind drifts toward sleep.

Sam wanted out... sometime this morning, actually twice through the night.  The first time I either didn't notice or the gift was not there yet.  The second time I let Sam out there was snow.  After a quick check on the weather, the prediction is two to four inches of the fluff.  I... wish I wasn't hitting bedtime.  I want to get my snow blower out, or when it stops.  Then again, it might not stop for some time.  It is just a soft but medium snow currently, quite nice to watch.  While checking the weather I also looked at humidity.  For the last few days it has seemed colder to me.  I wondered if my heart was acting up.  Nope, it's just that we have high humidity.  Although how high, really, is difficult to know.  When precip is coming in they always say it is nearly 100%.  Well, no, it's not.  Not even not really.  It simply isn't that high, is it?  Never mind.

As I begin to read, and perhaps with lessons, a couple of fine opportunities presented themselves.  Vox Day, one of my blog links, seems to be going all smarty pants, and not just limiting himself to super genius status, writing econ books, and plugging professors' blowpipes with their own garbage, but has been dallying in fiction.  I am not sure how it is termed, though fantasy would probably be the term, such as Lord of the Rings type.  I think.  In any case, while cruising on the night shift blog read, I noticed that one of his books is being offered free through Kindle for a few days (A Magic Broken).  I have never used Kindle before, it is on my smartphone, at least.  I just thought it would be messy.  But already having an account with Amazon, it was just as easy as it seemed once I got to it (but I never would have believed until I did it).  So, a free book.  Then, on his blog, he noted that, for the first fifty people who contacted him, he would allow us to preview his next book for free.  I wrote in soon enough it seems.  I received an email suggesting I was on the list.  I was honest with him.  I promised no glowing reports, only my honest assessment.  That was all he was asking, he assured me.

Sure, so, I put him at the head of the list and piles of books I have.  True, true.  But if I am to start reading again I may have to hit some pleasure centers before I can wade into the muck of checking calculations, or having to... trace notions and define them historically, religiously, and in other ways, and all the other things I feel called to do with much that I intend to read.  While there may still be some of this, Vox does tend to be a deep study and I like to know (if I notice it) whether a quote he is using is being used correctly (to my notions).  But reading may simply go forth, and if liked well enough, a review of his sources might be investigated before a second reading... or... uhrm, not.  Honestly, that is how I used to do things.  Books were projects, not items, or consumables.

I have been trying to get my downloaded collections of music situated and checked.  I have found one or two downloads that seem to be problematic.  As well, now that I have the videos that I like, I might pull down more music and put it into various collections... the classics, pop-type that I have somehow found myself enamored, Country, and perhaps some themed sections.  Mostly I want the videos I have used on my blog, so as to be able to remanufacture my blog to the degree possible, should that be necessary.  Many of the videos on the rest of the music are not important at all, just the music, which makes it easier to find a source should one or the other youvideo disappear in the meantime.  If nothing else it gives me something to tinker with, archive, check, and have a little sport with.

Bedtime, though.  At almost 10:00, my circadian rhythm is humming like the newest Intel chip... on fire.  Oh yeah.  Oh well.  See you... sometime after the second crack, as they say with coffee (or chip) roasting.

Mother, eh? Lest I forget...

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After thinking about all the things I want to, or am going to, do, I had to stop and consider something.  My mother, of course, and having her back out this spring.  Oh yes, she will be here.  But... when?  I know I want her here for planting the garden.  Oh, I will... try to keep her mostly as an adviser.  But trying to tell that woman somethings is simply not productive.  It is much better to just remind her that she doesn't have to, and shouldn't, lift heavy things.  And if she is going to bend over to work the soil, to get her something that makes getting up and down easier, and then just letting her wear herself out.  At which point she takes to pointing and clicking... until she catches her breath (which is often before I have had time to... get to what she was pointing... never mind).

So, a bit of looking for details regarding planting times.  As well, there is the issue of her wanting to be home at the breaking of new months, for her business affairs.  I think there is more to it than that.  I will butt out though.  Women MUST have their secrets and little ways.  Far be it from me to nose in.  Perhaps I merely have a paranoid mind, but she IS a woman after all.  Back to business.  It seems that for peppers and other delicates, which I assume includes tomatoes, the best time to plant is a week after the average last frost.  The average last frost is, if the site is correct and if for Logan, May 22.  So... how to do this.

I may have to see if she would be willing to return home a bit into June or the thing gets tricky.  Especially seeing that the last two springs have broken late, meaning that while the garden area might be well set up, she might not be able to help actually put the plants into the ground.  Oh, sure, I could do that myself.  Mostly.  As I have said, especially on new things, it helps to have someone there when I have doubts.  Doubts can stop a new project on a dime.  Plus, she has a pretty good notion of how to patiently keep me going on a project.  If she doesn't agree to breaking into the new month, then the visit will between the 9th and the 30th, for example, otherwise I would prefer it to be between the May 16th and June 6th, all give or take.  That would leave as much room for garden prep and a later spring planting as is doable in a three week window.  So much to consider for so many things?  I guess so.  I know I will either get buckets with water or climb stations with bags for near or over the plants, even if everything seems okay.  Weather is never what it seems, being fickle as any woman I know.

It is good to be in shape to be thinking things through.  It is fine to be on to beginning a garden, at least setting the stages for it.  I actually have quite a few things going on or in various stages of planning and prep at this point.  While it isn't quite engineering school, in some ways I am doing much more than that.  I can't opt out of some of this, I will simply have to figure alternate paths if things stay, or once I stabilize again become, wobbly.  Further, I can do that with these things where I could not always do that with school.  And, these things are convoluted and irregular, requiring social, logic, hands-on, singular and interwoven time planning, and such.  Engineering school was purely an idea based, curriculum and semester controlled,  one-stop, life consuming, project.  There was little time, for me anyway, for much else.  I didn't have to think about it, only do it or not do it.  So, yeah, I think I am doing better, if in an odd way.  I'll just call her this week sometime, don't want to bug her too often, and see what she thinks.  I probably won't ask her when I call on Christmas?  Hmm, though, why not?  I think it warms her heart to have a son in need, one she can finally actually materially help.  No lost black sheep am I the more.  Mostly.  :p

Oh, uhrm, later.

How to put a thing?

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Asked tonight how I was reacting to medicine, I merely suggested I was going through a bit of a rough spell.  But that they were increasing it very quickly this time.  All true of course.  But really?  I have been resurrected at least twice, possibly three times, right through a condition that is fatal for many all by itself.  Further, that condition went untreated for two and a half decades.  So, while I am having some fussiness from things now and really for the last few years, I... can't honestly complain.  But... that doesn't fit in a short public comment.  My health alone should have crippled me worse than anything the medicines do, although sometimes it has it hasn't been permanent, or lethal.

With a little help...

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As I said in my last post, control of sleep is not in my hands.  Oh, I do what I can, mind you.  And if needs be, I can sometimes trick things to work.  With the Christmas choir singing tonight, the question was whether I could even be awake.  Time wise, that was probable, according to norm.  I am so far out of norm though, that I could only do my part and hope, really.  I set the alarm for 17:00, when I went to bed.  I went to bed somewhere around... 7:30?  Oh but I called my mother this morning before I actually went to sleep.  So, perhaps to sleep by 8:00-8:30?  Yeah.

I was just waking, and before the alarm, when the phone rang.  Dinner, it seems, was about to arrive.  Was I up?  WAS I?  Well, not really, but I was awake and really looking for a reason to rise before that dratted ringy thing went off.  hah  And so I had my reason.  Plus, considering all, I had time to shower before dinner, which would put me in cruising distance for the launch to be there for the show.  So far so good.  Boy was I moving slowly though.  I am now in the unenviable position my mother used to be in while I was growing up, that of getting me going.  Something... discussed... early this morning, with her, I do believe.  No drill sergeant mom, says I.  Chuckles on the other end, to be sure.  Delicious chuckles, for her part, on her part.  I think she is glad to be done with that job, mostly.  She enjoyed hearing that I finally appreciate the artistry with which she has learned to handle the slumbering sluggish bear(tm), too.  Oh, yes, mother, I now know!

Dinner arrived, with me dressed in street clothes.  I would still have to dress formally, but I didn't want to do that while I sloshed around in consciousness's no-man's land, certainly not before dinner.  No time to talk, I am told, he is in the choir.  Now, I expected that though.  Good luck, I think or hope I said.  In no-man's land, what is said and what is considered as something to say are sometimes synonymous in memory.  Aye, but the intention was there either way.  As it turns out, sleepy as all get out, moving like a slug, I did get dressed and to the event.

I really enjoyed the singing too.  It is always good when there are some number of faces in the crowd on the stage with whom there is some familiarity.  A good batch of songs were sung.  Men had their turn to shine, as did the ladies.  Even the children got the spotlight.  A story was told, as well.  I have to guess that the woman who told the tale has told these to grandchildren, and probably children before that.  Either that or she has a wonderful knack for it.  I saw quite a few men I knew there, and shook any number of hands.  It is, actually, always quite a glad thing to say hello, for me.  The music was just right, to my ears.  I needed that.

As for fellowship after?  I was beginning to crash pretty hard.  I wanted to stay, truly.  Beside the chance to reconnoiter, which... if you know me at all, you know I quite enjoy... there were cookies and other sweets and such.  I'm not so much a cookie monster, but since they are a rarity, they have taken on a new dimension in my mind.  I simply couldn't.  I am almost ready to go back to bed.  These medicines seem to really be taking it out of me.  I'll... get over that before the month is out though.  Oh, I'll still swim come January should this persist.  I just might have to see about some place to take a little(tm) nap before even returning home some days, if this persists.  It... might be that it is winter, too.  Maybe, as I continue to read with the day lamp I might be able to get through this better.  We will see.

Ah, but... to not have the need of guilt.  Guilt for missing, guilt at letting folks down, guilt about illness.  Wow am I tired though.  I am going to try to stretch it a bit.  Later or good night.

A bit of tinkering and some cooking.

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I have a number of ideas to chase down.  Thankfully, whether regarding the peppers, another mom visit, a trip, or whatever, there is plenty of time.  February is when the peppers might begin as seedlings.  Only swimming, perhaps, will begin sooner.  Though with swimming I have nothing to prepare, figure, or buy.  The rest of it, though, can get intricate. 

I have begun a search for pots for an alternative refrigerator.  Whether it will go or not is another matter.  I could test it here just as well during the summer months.  One thing I realized, right off, is that I will NOT be buying brand new terracotta pots!  For a moderately sized setup the cost would exceed $400-$500, not including shipping.  No, I believe I will check at yard and estate sales, things of that nature.  And, being that it may be off the list, there is no rush.  With the element of time out of the equation, the price usually drops.

Little things are being considered for the trip.  The advise to be highly lit up and wear reflective gear as well is something of a topic I have been researching.  Of course then the idea of batteries comes up.  Though I have rechargeable batteries on the prep list, getting into those well enough to support this particular mission is questionable.  My guess is that solar rechargers would be the only certain means of keeping those readily operational, and it would take some number of them, plus a field of batteries ready to go, as it can take those several days to actually recharge a panel of batteries.  Plus, some of those seem to not be very safe, causing fires even more often than the Chevy Volt!  Still, there is time to consider this more fully.

A thought was tendered, regarding an electric scooter.  A bit of looking seems to cast doubt on the allowance of such at Burning Man though.  They encourage bicycles and walking.  I did a bit of research regarding rentals, but rentals are about $50 a day if available, or about half the cost of a new one I saw on sale.  The other issue is their weight allowance.  At 250, that leaves me out in that price range of rental or purchase.  They do rent a vehicle that can haul 450, though who knows how pricey that might be.  And it isn't a easy thing to haul itself, being (I think) more like a slow, single passenger, golf cart (also not allowed, by the way).  With a very quickly aging population, and they being the ones who have the money, I'm not sure how long BM will be able to deny these vehicles.  Or if they even really can now?  But... I don't need it... if from what I have seen that isn't always the point?

Oh, right.  I decided to cook lentils tonight.  I read the side of the can for instructions.  It suggested that one cup of lentils, with 2 1/2 cups of water, would produce... 1/2 cup of food?  That... doesn't sound right, but... okay.  So, how many cups of food did I want?  Hmm, maybe a cup?  Perhaps two cups!?!  No, I'm really hungry and I want some for later.  I'll go for four cups!  That would give me a solid taste of the stuff, nyet?  Yes, yes indeed, I will get a very solid taste of the stuff.  I think they meant one cup of dry would produce two or three cups of cooked.  I checked just now, again.  Nope, they have it very wrong on the can.  It wasn't just my stomach reading a mistake in.  So, yeah, I have... plenty of cooked lentils.  Not bad, but it will get old really fast.  Heh.  A bit of tuna in this bowl, a bit of butter in that, left over turkey in the next, I'll not waste.  But I will be hella glad when it's gone!

I am about ready to crash.  Not much choice, it's time.  I could drag it out several hours, probably.  But that just complicates things.  Going with the flow while in the middle of a riptide is simply the best way.  I can handle the ride out, and if it is tolerably close when I can escape it the swim back to shore or at least have an easier time staying afloat while I try to get help, but I definitely don't last long if I simply try to fight it.  Two med changes right on top of each other, plus probably honestly still trying to recover from my mother's visit, just... I can't catch a break right yet.  All good.  I'm a patient schmuck.

Good night.

In shape enough for such a thing?

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Well, yes and no.  As I said, I will need to hit the pool until it warms, then hit the bike this summer.  And yet I was able to work for my mother at quite a pace for three weeks.  While three weeks of washing windows, moving furniture, hauling this or that, and just the up and down of commands, might not seem like much, you would have to meet my mother to understand.  Three weeks!  That was almost boot camp.  Further, I was able to be up early quite some number of days, I drove to town on top of that and shopped while in town, some number of days each week, and there was more.  So, yes, even as is, I can probably handle a week of strenuous demand.  Though, I wasn't on medicines.  Then again, medicines have usually helped, once the shake-down cruise is complete.

My doctor suggested, from doing his own personal stress test, that I was extremely fit (he brought someone else to help with me, in case I failed, due to my... on-paper delicate condition... by the way).  I could easily have outpaced him if I had known the path.  He thought my heart must have improved beyond the need for the cardiology/heart transplant clinic.  While the heart did improve, it didn't improve enough to be moved from the clinic.  True, I can't do that on a daily basis for long periods.  But my mother showed what I can do and my doctor, after checking my heart and breathing afterward, was well pleased for his sake.  No, boys and girls, Doom is not on death's door.  I am not even gasping for air.  Why?  Don't look at me.  I've offered some various possibilities, some you might accept, some you think are downright foolish.  If you can come up with better reasons, I am all eyes.

Still, I really want to begin swimming this January.  Even twice a week, to kick things off, would be good.  I tried to ride the bicycle the year I got it, but... it was a bit much.  And this year it was far too hot while I had no cooling, initially.  The bike has two problems, for me.  One, there is the simple physical shape required.  The other problem is the oddness of sitting and balancing the thing after so many years of nary a pedal to foot.  Neither, alone, is a show stopper, I think.  Together they were a bit much.  Swimming, I am hoping, will alleviate one of those two problems.  Further, my guess is, once you attain a certain level of fitness and comfort in the saddle, as it were, you can probably nearly ride a bike for infinity.  I can walk like that, and at a reasonably quick pace, at this point (if not hike on an incline, that is different).  It hits 100 rather frequently here, in the summer, too.  So that shouldn't be too much of a change, either.  I handled the first few weeks, perhaps a month or two of that heat, here, before falling ill to it.  I had no break from it here, though.  The bike would merely add some serious speed potential.

I really am in it now.  Beyond just figuring one or two things out, I am now up to... four or five or six major projects, some with their own subunits of consideration, some of which are mandatory (through investment or need), some of which might very well end up contradictory by costs, all of which are being settled into a scheme that is as fuzzy as thick fog at this point, but coming together in starts and fits anyway.  Hmm, I've... had worse.  And the projects are helping me to focus on clearing the odd air the medicines put up around me.  I remember reading stories of Merlin.  Among the things that struck me then, and now, was one of the common notions that he somehow lived his life backwards through time.  He could remember the future, as well as any remembers their 'past', but the past was fuzzy, only partially accessible somehow.  I sometimes... feel more like that than anything.  Ah well, it adds to the curiosity of life, for me anyway.  Of course, if I could actually remember the future I would be day-trading into a bazillionaire!

Church, you ask?

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Well, I didn't think that would happen, no matter what I did.  I figured the alarm and great effort would simply traumatize my system.  As I said, I didn't use the alarm.  And, well, that was wise.  I didn't naturally rise until 19:30, and that was a brutal thing as is.  There is a chance to make it to Church in the morning though.  My sleep schedule is simply awful.  I make no promises.  It is just on my mind.

I am figuring out how to take my medicine, and usually getting my potassium in too.  That last is easy to forget, but can be taken any time during the 'day'.  Care must be given not to over sample potassium though too.  Especially since my potassium has risen from the just under the minimum to just over the minimum and on toward the center of regular blood levels.  Some of this stuff is simply tricky to try to balance, more so with a single worldly day often being split into 1/2 to three of my sleep cycles.  *BoYoAh!?!*  At least I know this will pass, it is just a medicine reaction thing.

The thing is, I am, as usual, plugging away at trying to develop a more regular schedule.  I am, honestly, still in complete freefall.  I am looking for the hand holds, when I am of the mind to it, to try to latch on, to end the fall.  So far, grabbing those hasn't even slowed my fall.  Still, one of these times, when I grab, I might hold for a bit or change the rate of fall.  If nothing else I don't see it as the exercise in futility it might seem to be, but more as a challenge that will eventually be taken in hand.  Well, and the other thing is, I know the medicines are doing SOMETHING.  Hehe.  Boy do I know, if... for other reasons too!  It also helps that, though I am freefalling through any kind of sleep schedule, I am thinking rather clearly and doing minor things on the side, including blogging, researching for various projects, reading! again, keeping up on medicine and the girls' needs, and such.  Tain't bad for a little life out in the wilderness of time and space.  Hmm, I've even noted a couple of available human doe that seem... interested.  Was... was that... a tail flicker?!?  Never you mind.

I am my own biology project.  While I am not introducing scientific processes, due to dysfunction, I am at least giving it the ol' 'most likely', and 'could be', principles of targeting, guesstimating, trial and error, and such.  It is rather like figuring out a parachute on the way down, but that is how I have always lived and enjoyed living.  A little book learning, some verbal instructions, a short flight, some gear, a little push sometimes, and then... WEEEEE!  Hehe.  It was sort of like with engineering school.  My health didn't support it, and when it wasn't boring from repetition (if at a rocket's pace) and exhausting, the sheer terror of prepping for three midterms or finals, after sleeping for a month, in a three-day period, was absolutely delicious.  Try it sometime.  When it worked it was I was rock solid for a good while.  Nothing like pulling off the impossible.  So this life now is a little slower, but it is still fun in it's own ways.

Well, off to... something.  I keep looking for good coffee suppliers.  Bulk green coffee, mostly for use in French, Italian, and Espresso roasts, is what I am after.  Say in 50 pound blocks, of four types.  I am finding it difficult to find the best coffees for those, that are in stock, or at correct prices.  When I see blends going for $100 plus for 20 pounds, and yet see other beans going for 123-150 pounds at a quarter the pound price, it is pure frustration when I can't find the right beans at the right price and quantity.  Working on it, though.  My goal is to have one to two hundred pounds of the stuff laid up before the next year is out, but at the right price.  I wish to neither negotiate too much on price or quality.  Three different search engines are proving to be no hedge against gougers, crooks, confusion, and access, yet, though.  Bleh.  Oh, right.  Later!

Reading, sleep oddities, and other issues.

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The consumption of the Screwtape Letters continues at a goodly pace.  So much practical wisdom can be found in the book that I feel saddened that it is so late in life before I found myself finally obtaining a copy and digging in.  Still, I am far from my deathbed and I have much to do.  And... I am an old 'ship'.  A little bolstering about the bow, or midships, after a good seasoning, is not such a bad thing either.

The book reminds me of things I have thought, clarifies other things I have considered, and points out tricks and traps I had previously missed.  Some of it is upsetting.  The notion of dulling a man, so that he neither knows nor cares, hits home.  No, that is not how I live when well, but when ill.  All I can see is gray, dust, nothing, and nowhere.  I do realize though that as soon as I may I pick myself up and hurry to the next opportunity.  My illness is my work, and like all, work sometimes does take precedents.  Sometimes it is the net sum of what a man can do.  Charity is fine, but to not work to make or earn what can be given, one becomes a charity case.  Which is rather convoluted, considering my income is a source of charity like insurance.  Oh, but some things I cannot dodge.  I must take some things to heart.  If too, some things that are offered are rejected in whole, part, or at least in the way I perceived them.  It is, however, written from the viewpoint of a demon, so... that might be called to be expected.

While no true religious expert, no preacher of the Word, no great debater of the way, I am most certainly a shrewd thinker, a solidly faithful man, and I have some long history with the Word and the faith.  My greatest weakness is in my association with other faithful.  Uhrm, something I blame mostly on myself, though having an intricate nature, which can be used to ill affect, does play a role.  In any case, in the reading of this book, I do find that many of the questions I have asked, and would have asked, are being covered.  No man will solve the riddle of the Word, not in a lifetime or a hundred lifetimes.  No, all we can do is search, seek, and be open to His Word, His will, and His way.  Further, His way for me may literally not be His way for you.  And further still, I do believe, His will happens, we only agree to be a party to it or not.  Free will without free way.  That is how I see it, mostly.  Never mind.  The thing is I feel I could have discussed the universe, people, and God, rather freely and easily with the author.  C.S. Lewis and G.H. Chesterton would have made for fine men with whom to discuss much.  And I think we all would have come away... better for it.  No scholar, am I, but that might be the very point.  No slight to scholars there at all, it is just that they are often much more formulaic, less... natural, or instinctive. 

Sleep?  Church today?  I have been up since?  And I slept ? hours before that.  I honestly have no idea, or control, over my sleep, or wake time, at the moment.  I am pretty sure I am about to crash.  And I will set my alarm to give me time to attend Church.  I am willing it to beyond spec tolerances.  I am also sure that I have almost no say in the matter.  It will be a form of luck, a touch of grace, not my will, that will see me into the pew next.  I don't know that my priest understands.  I am pretty sure God can see right into the guts of a man and knows the truth.  Which, for me, is enough.  Well, okay, it's a little much at times.  But then, I never feel that lying would serve my purposes, not to others, not to myself.  So... that is one advantage to the 'see right into the guts' notion.  Oh, I have known folk who will look right into your eyes, while they are doing what they say they never do, telling you with a straight face that they don't do what they are doing.  Never understood that, but it's there.  On that note, I do believe I have decided not to set my alarm.  I can't see trying for three hours to wake only to realize I am already an hour late, which... is most likely the best of outcomes and it really messes everything up.

Bed time.  Oh, and don't worry.  While I am compiling a list of needs and some wants for the trip, I am still focusing on getting the seedlings going.  I may have to see if a neighbor will water the plants the week and a half or so that I am gone.  I'll bet for some product, and maybe a small fee, one of the neighbor children would be happy to do so.  Uhm, assuming the seedlings make it, then get planted, and that they last that long.  Never mind, once again.  Just... plotting and planning.  Good... night, and day.

Food and various provisions for a week, plus.

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Have you ever stopped to calculate how much food costs each meal, or day, or even per week?  I have, or tried.  The problem is, hamburger and beans and etc. this week, day, meal, costs a lot less than ribeye and potatoes, but they all cost more than a big batch of chili or tuna-mac.  Urhm, I think?  Trying to make sense of that is just not my area.  I honestly have no idea how much I spend, save that $200 twice a month is slim and $650 or more is easy if I don't pay attention, at least when I was trying to do all the cooking myself (threw a lot of good food gone bad away though, if too I would have eaten it save for dishes having me in a corner).  Oh, sure, a wife would probably tame that right down... being that she would probably have other plans for the money.  I would love to, myself, but it's just not a man-thing.  I have tired, just...  I can use a vacuum cleaner sooner than do a grocery list... budget... thing.

Still, I know that for three squares, which I never do, but lets work with that, and even with a woman doing the budgeting and buying and such, costs a fairly nice shiny coin.  My guess is that at 3k calories a day, on the moderate to meek side of the budget, and with balance in mind, $15-$30 isn't out of line at all per day  (and, yes, 3k, perhaps as high as 3.5k-4k, for me, is maintenance).  Now, how much would food on the go, out there, travel food, cost?  If you said more you are correct.  Even eating at the least expensive places, to fully cover appetite, say at McDonalds, it would cost me between $25 and $40 a day.  A real restaurant would be much more.  And a special venue would be astronomical.  So, how would $12.28 per day, for three squares, on the road, work?  Perfectly, if you ask me.  A week of three MRE meals per day, plus tidbits such as napkins, utensils, drinks, sides, and deserts for $86 would be the ticket.  Most likely I would have food left over, for the pantry.  Good for hiking and such, if I can get to it after the trip.  Well, and not bad to have around for the days/weeks where cooking just isn't happening.

Oh, if you want one, I could always order an extra MRE kit for you, D.C.  I pay much less in shipping, and since I will be driving that way anyway...  Anything else you might want from there I could probably get too.  I think I only pay $6.95 shipping, regardless of order size.  That shipping price included the year's supply of grains and legumes, iirc.  Though if you plan on buying three year's supply of stuff... well... we would have to... discuss that.  Heh.

Oh, not to say I wouldn't like to bring other things, a few salami for example, perhaps some cheeses that haven't been embalmed.  :p  And of course there are other things to consider.  It might be fun to bring beans and lentils and such, and the rocket stove, just to see how that truly works?  I might even just take powdered milk rather than trying to fuss with fresh.  Save that it would be fun to see how well an alternative refrigerator or two really would work.  A desert science lab?  A prepper's self-schooling opportunity?  There are probably other foods that would be good, fun, or simply delicious to take as well.  I won't be without my butter, but canned butter or ghee would do just fine.  And whole coffee beans, my grinder, and probably a french press would work best.  Gotta have my coffee since soda just, probably, won't do well in that heat.  Might even be a little dangerous?

Yes, yes, I haven't been this into a project in a while.  Damned the money, inconvenience, and the rest of it, all sails and full steam ahead.  I have... places to go, things to see, and people to irritate!  I will have to slow down and do some real taking of stock soon.  I will be taking, pretty much, most of my camping gear minus a tent.  I will be taking bits of both cold and warm weather gear.  I do have some rope, though I am not sure it is the best for tying down a camper.  I will have to collect, audit, contain, and bolster my first aid kit, to include bug repellant(s), sun block, and other asunder.  Why so early?  Last time, going on the blind, taking without thinking, worked fine.  This time it is a little more complicated.  And being, essentially, in the middle of nowhere, living even in a camper not at a home, with no phone access (which doesn't mean much to me, actually, save emergencies though that will be covered), the thing becomes just a bit more serious.  Though, too, I don't want to take too much, either.  At least we don't have to hump our gear a couple decades of miles, or even clicks.  Still, a decent back pack full (which nicely converts to full pack with side "rockets" down to even a single "rocket" in the sling for day use), maybe another pack of some sort, but... not too much more, save for water and food.  They suggest, at a minimum, 1.5 gallons, per person, per day.  Hmm, by seven that is 10.5 gallons.  I am thinking more along the lines of about 3 gallons per day, being a true desert, and just in case, plus the possibility someone else might need a drop.  Since I'm not having to tote it I am more inclined to bring enough to share.  So, 21 gallons per person?  Yes...  Oh, sorry, just thinking.

Yes, I am getting excited.  Oh, and I would have to discuss things with my adventure partner.  Some things, like water, will be somewhat dependent upon the buggy chosen.  It is just that, at the beginning of the road, everything seems possible.  And, it is all possible.  It probably isn't all doable.  Maybe.  Depending on how high or off one aims I suppose.

In the tank.

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After having been shown what to use to download videos, and tinkering with varieties of such, I finally got to it tonight.  I had thought it would be a very unhappy chore.  But that wasn't the only reason for the stall.  I've been sleeping and needing it.  I simply haven't been up to thinking things through and getting to them.  It happens.  Finally I set out to see if I could get a few YouTube videos into memory.  Hmm, not bad, says I.  So, I did a few more.  Watching the videos on the browser while they were being downloaded to the hdd made the task eminently more pleasurable.  This loaner computer is barely up to the task but... it came through for me, with only a bit of time-out frustration.  As it turns out there are only, perhaps, thirty songs to which the videos were worth downloading.  Most of them I have in my CD collection, so I have no guilt that way, come to think of it.  Usually the download was done before the video quite playing, save on a few that were in true 1k hd, even the 720 hd were a bit long to download.  No complaints, really.  I did test my download function, for my cable.  I'm hitting 12.5, which is... pretty good actually.  Upload time seems a bit slow, but I don't use that feature to any real extent.

All through this process I was thinking it was either early Saturday or late Sunday.  A review of data on my smartphone, or two, finally clarified that it was merely evening on a Friday.  All good, it means I didn't miss Mass tomorrow, if I did today.  I slept... pretty much all day, and long again considering when I went to bed but more so on top of the fact that I have been sleeping like a winter bear.  I realize too, I am as hungry as a bear.  I'll have to figure something for food.  While I can go without food for days and weeks, if I consciously realize that hunger, it hurts like few things I know.  That doesn't always motivate me, but... this time I am feeling the hunger before the real pain starts, and I am looking to avoid the pains.  Yeah, I suppose I am an odd critter, but... and?

I have been looking for some things to take to the Black Rock Desert.  Oh, they can have serious weather, it is a high desert, the days are hot and often over a 100 while the nights are cold by comparison, dipping into the 40s.  First thing is to make sure I have real clothes, gear, and such, for the practicalities.  Now, being a part time prepper and an outdoor enthusiast if I haven't done as much as I should like of those, I do have a pretty serious set of gear.  I will do some checks.  I know my med-kit could use some things.  And there might be another hole or three that could be filled or whole kitted out.  But in the main, I should be fine on the practical side.

Now, on the fashion side?  Hmm, my leather trench might be fine, engineering boots up to my knees might go, and I do have a few trinkets and clothes that work double duty as fashion and practicum.  But, there are large holes in this part of the event.  I won't be going with a Church group, if at least one fellow Christian will be there.  This isn't a public or typical social event either.  Now, I have defined limits, as to His will, but those limits are rather lenient and reasonable.  He has never said we can't play, have fun, or goof.  So, to those ends, I have been shopping around.  Oh, I certainly won't take everything I see.  I couldn't afford it, and wouldn't afford it anyway.  If some of it might have double duty, perhaps working with Renaissance festivals, it has a better chance.  Even then, that would be quite a lot.  Still, just like shopping for a cruise, or a special trip perhaps, I am looking for a few items to enhance the experience.  Some of it is Christian enough that there won't be too much doubt.  It is fun to look, to see what has become of that world, a world I used to know.

The other thing I need to consider is food, water, and various other consumables for the trip.  They do not provide water even.  No, this will have to be carefully considered.  While they might sell things, like ice, you can bet between transporting that in and gouging the heck out of poor planners, it would behoove me and my wallet to plan ahead as best as I can.  Dry ice is an excellent thing, and done right it can last a good long time.  Being a prepper, I have become aware of alternative methods of doing things, too.  Zeer pots would be preferred, I think.  Food, of course.  I have some foods, as is, that pack well, split out easily, and would work nicely for such a short time as a week.  I am thinking about getting some MRE's to fill that out, though, too.  Make the mundane easy so as to enjoy the funner parts a little better.

What world did I used to know?  Ah, vampire clubs before they were ever called such.  Places of invitation only parties where... the world simply was.  No violence allowed, save the ones in the 'corner' who were into minor events amongst themselves.  Pretty much anything was game, and available.  Unlike today, these things were never held in the same place.  Each event was it's own.  That kept the non-invites, non-re-invites, and rejects out.  It was sort of like what is shown in this vid, only... I never saw kids in a cage.  Not that they might not have been there, with mum and dad around to keep an eye on them, just that I never saw such.  The rest of it?  Pretty typical.  Yeah, a different life.  Oh, no, it really wasn't evil, just... people searching, figuring things out, and simply enjoying who and what we were.

Now it is heavy sleep that is eating me.

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My cycle has been, mostly, staying up half days and sleeping about four hours.  That model, I am told by management, is no longer fashionable.  No!  We are on to sleeping full plus cycles while staying up as little as four hours.  It would be nice if they would mention this before the switch.  Taking medicine became a bit trickier, as does getting food down.  Feeding the girls has even become a trick.  Knowing what day it is is a fun old game with new rules.  This too shall pass.  Friday, still, or again, or... something.  Sleeping too much is rude to my body.  That does cause aches, I see now.  But alarm clocks and wanting to be up, targeting times in my mind and such, have zero impact on things.  My alarm did wake me today, two hours after it started ringing, and probably only then because Sassy came in and added her help.  Actually, this time, I was quite grateful for her help.  Ugh.

Oh, not complaining.  If this is helping my heart, and it seems to be if slowly, then I will endure this.  A six percent improvement isn't much, but it is enough for the moment.  And that six percent is in a form that is dubious... the real improvement is nearly double that in terms most people would truly understand.  My bp was better in some ways today, 138/100 or so.  If that bottom number falls, even to 80, I am in top shape.  Then I will be in a position to conscientiously veto any further med increases save one I would allow, knowing I am doing as good as I can, for a while anyway.  We will see what swimming brings.  That may help as well.  They have a full day of lap swim schedule, off and on, so I should be able to swim two or three times a week regardless of my weird sleep patterns, if I can just have enough energy to simply get there.

I feel sorry for the people who have nowhere to go with their health.  Those who can't live on their own at all.  I have done everything I know how to keep from being like that.  If I am not sure such things are in our hands, really.  The fit, right-eating, man who gets paralyzed by accidentally stepping in front of a bus.  The woman who does everything right only to have a freak embolism from a bruise from an happenstance oddity in life cause her a career-ending stroke.  Let alone those who do everything right to no good ends anyway, simply having their body begin to die, fail, pump out the wrong number of various hormones, or begin growing cancers, all for no known reason at all.  And of course death is never too far, whether sought or avoided.  And even death cannot be commanded, one way or the other.  In the world of recorded history of man I am already nearly an ancient.  A thing many seem to forget.  Even in my own youth it was not uncommon for folk to not live long enough to see their great grand children.  Four generations, alive at once, was considered a minor miracle when I was growing up.  Now it's all but expected.  So my issues sort of need to be put into perspective.  And, I suppose, our medical field has to be given some serious thanks.  That last I tend to forget in my knotted little world of exhaustion, sleep oddities, physical aches, headaches, and such.

Well, on to... who knows.  I will probably continue to use that day lamp to read by at least once a day, and for Latin lessons when I restart those.  I don't know if it will end up doing any good at all, but it sure makes reading easier.  And, after all, I actually still enjoy reading.  I just won't go full throttle as I did before I was ill.  My guess is I read up to seven, maybe nine, books a week back then.  Even as a child I didn't read the candy cane teen books, but mostly classics, even the "boring" ones.  Especially the boring ones, they were interesting to me.  A book or two a week would be fine for me, at this point.  But I will have to work up to that.  Hmm, mix and match?  A fun reader such as the Screwtape Letters followed by one of the econ books?  Yes, that might work.  What I found with reading is, even if you end up having to screw your face up to read, if it is a book you "should read", then just deciding to do it, then doing it, is the best way to go.  Picking and choosing leads to the bottom very quickly.

Good day.

Hmm, sleep is just weird.

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I stayed up well past the time I wanted to try to sleep.  Hitting 22:30, I finally packed my bags and headed for the pillows.  Sleep set on rather nicely.  It was quick, not too much rolling around, and before I knew it, lights out.  I have no idea why, but at around 12:00 or 1:00 and change I woke and that was that.  No going back to bed.  I wasn't hungry or thirsty, I didn't need to use the restroom, nothing.  No dreams, no thoughts, no reason at all.  So, I am up.

While up, I decided to investigate the mystery of the non-appearing confirmation emails.  I went to the Burning Man ticket site, to see if there were problems with confirmation emails not going out.  I checked a few other places.  Of course I checked my email again.  I noticed an email from my friend, asking for details about the purloined confirmation emails.  I was going over some of the details of why I wanted him to check his email, then I thought... You know... it could be in spam?  Bingo.  Four, beautiful, identical save for the time stamp, confirmation emails.  AND a sale on handbags I coulda missed!  ;p  So, remembering the God Father movies, I dropped the confirmation emails and grabbed the... no, no, it was grabbed the confirmation emails and dropped the bag.  Right!  I forwarded that on.  Should be there for when he wakes.  I hope it didn't give him a rough sleep.  It wasn't what woke me, and it didn't bother me, I knew it had worked.  I just wanted him to know it had.  Gosh those tickets were spendy though.

Still, it's good to have that out of the way.  Now to figure out sleep.  I am simply assuming that medicine is still getting settled.  If I remember correctly, it can take a month or more after each increase.  And the higher the dose the longer it takes.  Plus, I have been shifting my medicines upward at a rocket's pace compared to how I did it that first time.  The first time it took... six months or more? or seemed to... to do what I have done in a month or two.  Well, it seems like I have ratcheted up the medicines much much faster, in any case.  Yeah.

This weekend is the Christmas Show.  I really am aiming to be there.  I know what time it is, and the day and date.  So long as I can keep track of the current day and date, and create a glide path for it, I am pretty sure I can be there.  That really is tricky for me, even with only a few days left, simply because I can have one to three "days" in any given 24-hour period.  I am also hoping to make it to Church today or tomorrow.  That is trickier, in my delicate condition, as it requires contemplating a variable window (drive) time.  Yeah, I know.  But that really is a ball buster for me.  Oh, probably not the best language to use about getting to Church, but it's absolutely honest.  Hmm, if I make it to Church, perhaps I will see if my friend needs to get out afterward.  With nothing on my agenda I could be his driver and personal assistant, unfettered by my own concerns.  That makes things a lot easier for me.

Good... something or other.  Neither good day nor good night?  Shoot me running, minus the running part.  Heh.

Passion, she is back!

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I have written about a couple of difficulties and solution sets lately, some of them as pairs some as separate devices, relating to passion, love, desire.  As well, mixed in there I have written about a returning of desire that is blindingly, crushingly, potent.  Perhaps it is the medicine, but just as possibly it is the heart being somewhat repaired and heading for even better, added to what that does in my mind, hope, considerations for the future.  Whatever the case, the culmination of thoughts, the frequency of the firing, the sense of there being meaning to them, it's shaking and stirring me.  My old foundations may have to be revised.

I am not sure, of anything.  I do know something is, all about, stirring me to the games of life, the loves of a woman, the chase, the hunt, the search, and very possibly a find.  As each piece has fallen into place, the next has appeared and fallen into it's place, until finally I have the means, motive, and perhaps the opportunity.  A woman I have written about previously, though I will give no other clue about her, was seen today.  For the first time, and without thinking of it at the time, I noted she had no rings on her fingers.  None.  Not one.  This evening, as I was considering things...  I suspect a trap.  A trap I may well jump into and wiggle past the one-way trap bars to wedge myself into fully.  Hells yeah.  And in my recent post I explained some of the how of it.  But it starts at the start...  How boring, but as I have matured as a man, so necessary...  I see now.

Hungry, and I think I saw honey in that there bee hive.  Damn the bees, full speed ahead.  We will see.  But after Christmas I am going to make a grab for a first encounter of teh crazy kind.  How odd that someone that close, seen that often, with her attitude and seeming interest... went totally unnoticed...  Well, not totally.  Simply overlooked as... a potential.  I must be daft!  Wait, yeah, okay, we knew that.  But...  Never mind.  And HUSH!  I'm huntin' wabbit!

Aww... It didn't happen?

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No way!  Yes way!  I think for the first time in my life I am going to an event.  Okay, so it probably isn't an event just anyone, certainly not everyone, would like to attend.  Full of ragged hippies, crazy artists, lost souls (there is always... possibilities with these), and some folk like me I am sure.  Lost souls who found their way back home, there to remember another time, way, and even to celebrate being saved from much of that?  Who knows, something.  Well, and as you have for certain ascertained by this point, I am not normal in any fashion, sense, or way... if the Lord knows, twere it to me, I probably would be.   But it is not.  In any case, the deal is at least on the tracks.  The first thing is to get tickets.  See, but tickets are scarce, expensive, and really both (of course if you understand the simplest notions of supply and demand as regards price within economics).  Between my friend and myself, his foresight and for now my cash, the tickets were purchased.  And, I think we can come to terms with repayment, or how that can be handled, and both be comfortable with the cash flow.  If all else fails, the tickets can be put up for resale easily, so I won't lose a thing.  Few gambles are this easy.

Now, to get them to send the darned confirmation though.  My guess is their system is quite busy.  Today is the first day of sales and these things must be flying off the internet.  I doubt if their confirmation system is all that robust, and it certainly wouldn't be as fast as sales.  Take the cash, THEN offer a receipt.  Repeat this a dozen times if you don't understand, at least you will simply know.

In spite of having used the sun lamp I am fading fast.  It is an excellent reading lamp, albeit.  Still, I will stay awake long enough to send the confirmation along... whenever it arrives...  Probably.  Hmm, I'll give it a couple two or three hours anyway.

My mission, should I choose it, is to dig into swimming until it warms.  That is to start in January, as with all expenses of late I want to get some fresh money tucked away, and no more out until then.  Then continue with swimming, if slightly less so as to hit bicycling.  The only means of allowable transport there is walking and biking, and the place is rather large... housing 48k people, with large arenas for various events, performances, displays, and who knows what else.  Oh, so who will I be?  Well, just me.  Though throw on the face paint of a solid warrior, some of the clothes of a goth, some of a Renaissance figure, if more on the tech and religious side of things somehow, and... that would be me.  I might even have to get a real mowhawk for this.  Hmm, we'll see, in truth.

Some things.

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Alright, it looks like I have enough to order tickets.  The thing is the application process which had to be activated in order to apply (wtf?!?) went down before I was able to get into it.  I'll have to try to contact D.C. about that.  I'm not sure how to make the transact as things stand, though there may be a low tech and inexpensive way.  Or a bit of trust.  I'm always fuzzy about trust, but it has happened before.  And that might work either way.

Into town I went.  The bank, first thing, then to the store.  Nothing fancy, fast and easy, relatively cheap and painless.  A fast food dinner on my way home.  I had no choice.  I have nothing truly prepared and my stomach was threatening me with a working over of my rib cage.  I hadn't even seen that hunger creep up, and I had eaten breakfast.  Must be part of that ongoing weird thing.

I do believe I will hit the lights a bit more, perhaps fifteen minutes to an half hour, reading while lighting up. 

Ah-ha!  Something I figured out about women, or women as they relate to me.  In a mock conversation, the topic is irrelevant but more the thing is so good I won't be sharing anyway, a woman came to me, angry about the topic(tm).  One of the things I said to her, something I am sure of, is that women who are married should not take their anger to another man.  A woman who brings her anger to me has very possibly put herself in my (very capable, I'll have you know) hands.  Yes, that is one of my key tools in catching a women.  If I can get her to bring me her anger I have a very good chance of hooking that fish.  Yes indeed.  Further, her anger is a lure to me like few others.  It is like the flick of a white tale doe's tail to a buck. 

Oh, and, at first, I just take her anger.  After a bit though, she gets it back with a cold dose of reality.  No, I don't get angry with her, I merely tell her she has no right to be angry because what she did was foolish, or such.  No, I also don't contrive.  It has to be real, all the way.  As she struggles with me over her anger, and as I steal it away from her and replace it with some understandings of her failings, and do some other stuff (sort of trying to mature her)... tagged, bagged, and ready for delivery.  Right, wrong, we all have our means of attempting to find a mate.  This one, for me, is golden.  The relationship up to her finally giving me her anger is fuzzy.  You just have to be paying attention, learn how to steer her and the conversation, it's fluid not formulaic really, reality not physics.  And it isn't guaranteed.  Just... it's the best tool I have ever had or used.  It's nice when a light flicks on and you get to see your main tools closely, perhaps for the first time ever.

Anyway.  A bit more light and reading, after an email.  Gosh, I really want to go the that thing-a-ma-bob in the desert.  But, yeah, maybe waiting is best. 

Later.  If the light works.  Or good night.