Ah, yes, awake again.

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I always do, but this time it stuck.  I looked at the clock when I woke.  It indicated somewhere in the neighborhood or 20:30.  A couple of hours had gone by?  Where does the time fly!  Never mind.  I was able to do nothing yesterday.  Today, again, same goals.  Less time to get ready and make my way to town, so that may be out.  A shower and some cleaning, however, are on the menu.  Whether anything will happen is a whole other ball of wax.  I am able to at least put some things on the menu.  It is... somewhere between a minor and major improvement.  Doing something, action, is the vestiture of great intent, currently.

I was thinking about the dream from the other night.  The reason generals are not soldiers, and soldier are not generals, is because one is function and one is thought.  It is believed, by theologians, tacticians, businessmen, and engineers of the professional class, that contemplation and action are separate, and should be kept apart.  When you train a man to be both, you are teaching him to be the impossible.  The action of thought, alone, and in itself.  There are... limits.  And, there are problems.  Sometimes, when action is required, thought is chosen.  Sometimes, when thought is preferred, action is taken.  And, at times, through the resonance of each, the impetus to any sort of attention is either wrongly canceled or greatly exaggerated.  This, all, of course, aside from the fact that no man is stone.  Not even Christ.  Stones don't bleed.  These notions have been bugging me, as I... sit and contemplate action.  Go ahead, laugh.  I did.  Until it became sour.  Such is the way of humor.

I have been gaming.  At least I can do that.  I would guess, between study, and then actual play, I have advanced to where a typical player would be a month or two into play in my first week.  This game has too much information, too many tricks, traps, and items, to ever be fully known save through years of play, tons of experimentation, and lots of trial and error.  Even then, the easy way, the best way, the fastest way, will not always be known, or chosen, for various reasons.  This game, actually, could be played for a decade or more, assuming the hardware exists in the future, or lasts.  So very many variables.  The only problem I have with the game is that it is set for both multiplayer and single player, so advice has to be considered with that in mind.  I don't do multiplayer.  That is for geeks who can't deal with the real world, in my way of thinking, and so make havoc or seek help.  Fine, fine, I know some people have great hate at being... lessor.  This gives them a world to explore, and hopefully grow, from that wound.

Oh... a few more hours to wake, hopefully a shower... then... anything.  We'll see.  But, for now, back to the dungeons.  Hehe... literally, if electronically.  And you thought I had no sense of humor!  Later. 

I was just thinking...

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I am questioned, often.  It seems I might be a bit hard to take, even stomach, at times.  It is true.  I won't debate the matter.  I tried to argue, when I was younger, and couldn't, or wouldn't, see.  There is nothing sacred, save God.  Not even angels, and not men until they have passed that final hurdle.  Not to me.  I don't mind treading on almost any notion, and I will question any understanding, by others or myself.  And, yes, I tested God.  He's good, by the way.  Now I just parry God as a means of understanding, so as to abide... not to qualify.  As I said, He is good.

My means can be harsh.  My methods can be brutal.  And I can do these things without a thought.  Do, or do not, there is no try.  That sounds simple, or easy, or mellow, until you think about it.  Yes, or no.  The world is cut and dried, we just don't get it, most people.  Then again, even a billionaire, perhaps more so, knows that... it's a hoax, if the world is it.  I doubt if even they can get quality work of which they can find certainty.  And, no, not even death and taxes are sure things.  Trust me.

Oh, but... what got me... was some judgmentality about my way of doing things, even my life, my posts, how and what I think, perhaps who and what I am or might be, and so on.  You have heard, perhaps, that Christ suggested that He would leave the company of the ninety nine for the one lost sheep.  How much more for... one such as me.  A saint in hell is far less rewarding for those who desire that than a hellion in heaven is for the hosts on high, for Satan can never be happy, his minions less so, while angels rejoice only half as much as God at each one who enters.  Just thought I'd send a message through the nether to the ears and eyes. 

Doubt me, but don't doubt my faith, or my nature.  The two don't usually mix.  Still not sure why He called.  Glad He did, now.  He does have a hell of an child, in me.  And, for my part, I get to relearn what being a child means... in many ways.  Good... day, and night.

Today?

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Gosh, Wally, I don't know.  I have been under the weather, possibly due to the weather.  Pushing might have helped create the vulnerability.  Not a problem.  When falling, flap your wings.  Might not do anything to save, but... just out of curiosity.  Well, and to die with a snark on your face, if you are going to die?  Maybe even just a smile?  Yeah, I'm trying to lose the snark.  Actually, mostly, that is gone.  I didn't kill it, I simply replaced it with better... much as what I did with hate, replacing it with a form of disrespect and... regret, of a sympathetic nature.  Empathetic, really.  I have worn those shoes, chose others.  Still...  Today?

The hope is to get cleaned up.  Perhaps a further hope to do some cleaning.  And, at the fringes, perhaps a trip to town late at night, when... if... I can.  Just a hamburger and fries.  Hot food.  While rice and quinoa, with butter and or cheese, and or tuna, has been good... it's... causing... problems.  I am not eating enough cheese for that to be the problem, so I think it is the grains.  No wonder vegetarians and vegans use six times as many laxatives as the average American... last I heard.  Bump.  All I'm saying the more.

Sleep is rolling me.  I have no idea, at this point, when I am going to bed or waking.  It is too rough right about the time I go down, and wake, for me to consciously take note.  I may have been awake for an hour, or three, at this point, so I don't have a reference, and can't gauge one.  Same with sleep.  I go in hard and fast, without any clue beyond ~crash~!  I'm working on it from the inside.  If that is more like trying to sew a button on while high diving off a cliff and checking email.  Yeah...  But...  It's where I am and what I have in front of me, and regardless of the outcome, I will put in effort to putting everything in it's place and doing what needs to be done on a priority basis.  Chaos doesn't confront me none, so long as I do what I can with what I have.  I have... been in much worse spots, where everything around me, and even myself, had some high probability of causing immediate death, dismemberment, and worse.  It's... sort of my area.  A broken heart is just one more variable.  Yum!

Well... I best see if Sam is finished with her daily duty and wants back in, so I can feed the girls.  Sassy is breathing down my neck.  She knows, as do I, that it is past dinner time.  I would like to feed them around noon, but only when my schedule is static.  I don't like feeding them too close to when I wake up, it encourages bad behavior.  Yes, so... no... not for a few more hours.

Yeah, we will see.  I am, after all... only flesh and...

A few things, anyway.

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For a while, I had wondered if being stationary, as I declined in function, was the reason for the soreness.  If it were, and it can be if that hits hard, then it lasts until I become active again.  Thankfully, it seems that the pains were really from overdoing last week.  All good.  As I've mentioned, that sort of pain can't be bought at any price and yet, to me, is as priceless as it seems.  It means, essentially, that one is living... and as fully as they are able.  It means I am scraping bottom to reach for the unreachable.  The pains, have, for the most part, completely gone away.  Since going down Sunday, really, and onward, so far, I haven't gone down so hard as to create other pains.  A good thing.  You don't want to be sore from just sitting.  And, you don't sit that hard and long as a choice.  Sounds strange, just trust me.  Some people think, given the choice, or option, that they would love to sit from Sunday to Thursday.  And, for a one-time thing, that might be true.  But when such a thing hits, and there is no choice, it isn't as fun as it would seem.  Be careful what you wish.  Thought, that has never been a wish of mine.  Though reaching out to... own too much of the world and myself may have been why I am what I am.  Though, sometimes, bad things just happen.  Who ever knows these things.

I had an appointment today.  I had forgotten until just a few hours ahead of the time to be there.  I could, technically, timewise, have mad it.  But I was already pushing bedtime in an attempt to reorder my days and nights.  My eyes hurt as if sand had been poured in, my body hurt for sleep, my mind was reeling and wandering like a desert madman sage.  And I would have needed a shower, to dress, and to drive... and all of that on very short order and in a hurry.  So, I changed the appointment.  That seems like the simple, and logical, thing to do.  But, for most of my life to this point, even if I happened to notice things had gone sideways... ahead of time, like this, but just barely as I did today, and in the condition I was in, I wouldn't have, perhaps couldn't have, called.  I haven't always had the ability to reach out of my grave, to touch the world, to risk the exposure, to verify my condition... or to signal weakness that if followed upon could be considered a tactically dangerous exposure.  Do not cry wolf but do not whimper, ever.  Whimpering in the world of the lethal, leaving blood on a trail, dangerous.  Better to die alone, bleed out in pain, than to let them know.  I don't believe medical is, always, on some things, in some ways, more so the V.A., your friend.  The best of their worst is that they will 'love you to death'.  The worst is they will use you as a data point, as I believe the V.A. has, and darkly.  They knew about my heart for a long time, or highly suspected, and didn't mind taking huge risks... probably just "to see what would happen".  Data they play with, and probably sold.

Still, I did this.  This was considered mild enough exposure.  I am, after the call, not sure.  They tried to keep me on the line, after rescheduling, and asked a bunch of data that hasn't changed in decades.  I don't know if they were checking something, doing a passive medical or other exam, or what.  Perhaps they get year end bonuses of longer contact times.  I don't know but I don't trust.  Medical, coupled with military and intelligence once you have become a lump, and the government ever, are not your friends.  Know this, love this.  This is the truth.  Use them as employees, don't ever allow them to become your boss... if, in America, that may be too late.

I did stay awake until well past noon.  I think it was past 13:30.  I called at 9:30 or so.  My goal, today, was to stretch to just being awake out to the appointment time today.  Getting back on scheduled has a cost.  With the weather going from light to dark, warm to cold, and a general cooling, this fight is going to be hard.  While this summer wasn't optimal, it was easier than fall and winter will be.  The goal is to do as much as I can, when I can.  I had hoped for a two week reschedule, instead it will be more like a month and an half.  Perhaps I shouldn't rush the schedule change?  The thing is, I don't want days to be when the sun is up just for appointments.  And yet, with the seasonal cool and dark coming in, getting on schedule quickly... I may not be able to keep that ordered for long.

Just blathering as I wake.  I woke at... maybe... 18:00?  Which means, if I can, I will take a nap later, perhaps a long one.  I can push, but only so far.  I can sleep, but once disturbed that's that.  It's like being in a space craft with no real engines or steerage.  I have boosters, of very limited use, and can open vents for even smaller shifts in trajectory.  But I can't just hit the gas and go to a specific point.  Right now, if the example was the case, I am merely able to keep from finding out how solid the heat dissipation shielding is and wondering if, should I fall, whether I would land where I could survive.  As many times as I have fallen, healthwise, I have never known if I would be able to rise again.  Even now, jaded about it and used to it, I am never sure.  In real terms, yes, I will.  But it doesn't feel like that.

It's a good day, other than those minor things.  I just need to figure out something to eat.  I may even see about a shower, maybe a drive to town for an easy calorie rich meal.  If not... I'll figure something out.  Rice and quinoa, with that little cooker, have been on tap quite often.  I might see how well it handles oatmeal.  I do like that stuff.  Gruel, but I like me some gruel.  Hmm... I wonder... I still have some pork sausage, some of it maple flavored... cook that in a batch, keep in in the freezer, add it to the gruel.  While I like gruel, I love meat.  Mix and match, somehow, and...  It's a matter of hitting the right combinations of vents and thrusters to translocate to the goal.  Nothing, in this place, is as easy as it might seem to those down below... or in my case... up above?  Who knows.

I've got food on my mind.  A goal.  A little one, but it pays for itself and pays forward as well.  I best get to waking in the hopes of vittles.  Later!

Oh well.

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Regardless of how potent dreaming was recently, life has lost a bit of it's luster.  Then again it has been cloudy, cooler, and a sense that fall is here.  It's not here, it's just closer than before and... just seems like it has been hanging over most of August.  I have enjoyed the cool.  It just seems a little wrong.  I hear August, here at least, had a greater number of cloudy days than usual, perhaps many more.  From memory, as good as that is, it seems this August has been much cloudier, cooler more often, and... something else... something... fall like.  I don't know, but if winter follows through, it is going to be hard, long, or both.  Then again, as we age we notice such things... or at least remember noticing them?  As a child, winter equaled cold.  A bad winter, a good winter, a light snow winter?  All the same.  Cold.  I remember hearing how this or that winter, as a child, was worse.  I just couldn't tell the difference.  A peculiarity, or just a type of personality not really geared, or at that time, for picking up such.  I had books!  Comics!  Playing, fighting, and... other things on my mind.

My sleep cycle is twisted again.  I suppose, given the time-frames, I would rather have my days, then my innards, twisted.  But more, when I let it run it's natural course, my sleep is varying greatly, as is waking time.  I can't seem to get a handle on it.  Some of it is the weather changes, some of it is that new game.  New toys, ones I really like, can... eat me.  I fall into them like falling in love for some.  I suppose they are made to be addictive.  But they have to be careful with addictions.  If one game becomes too popular, they will cease to make money on new games.  I would suggest they have added a bitter components, aspects of the game that are meant to irritate the player on to other games, in some period of time.  Truth be told, to figure out any three games, ones someone likes well enough, it could honestly take three years to fully explore, find every object, uncover secrets, and such.  Some games could be played for a whole lifetime, and all of the possibilities not be explored.  I am currently playing, I suspect, one of those latter type of games.

The game is rather demanding.  I hear it used to be more difficult.  The first in the serious was much harsher yet.  They have "fixed" some aspects of the game to make it more broadly playable.  I didn't realize this until after I had accidently updated the game.  Usually I don't have the ps 3 connected to the internet.  I must have needed, or wanted, it connected, for something and left it connected.  Bad call.  Now  I am too invested in the characters, and there is no way to go back without losing the characters.

I was correct about a couple of notions regarding the game.  It is a bit of a nerd game.  Collecting specific armor, weapons, and skills is part of it.  But digging into the game mechanics, trying to figure out timing, in some cases down to microseconds.  Figuring out how to do some things that, really, are rather technical.  It is not a game that can be played casually and well.  Then again, I wonder how many expert model kits, with motors, gears, and such, end up just sitting, never finished... sometimes never started?  This is a more adult game, of upper middle intelligence, but with components of hoarding, figuring, and surviving.  Half of what makes it complicated is being given controls that run like mud, but against opponents who are in the same mud, but better than you... only with weak points you can, potentially, defeat.

I doubt, in the game, if there is a single enemy I haven't died, sometimes often, figuring out how to beat.  At least after some of the lowest level creatures, as few of those as there were.  And, in every boss fight, just understand, no matter how often you watch someone else on YouTube beat a boss, you will die your first time.  I have beaten a few bosses first shot, but it is rare.  Oh, and there are also named mini-bosses, and types that fit the bill.  Some take a lot more time to figure out than others.

I was also right about some of the learning curve.  I really couldn't have learned some things, like parry, or backstab, early in the game.  When living on margins of survival, and needing to have enough chances to do it right, you can't squander your nerve and patience trying to learn a technical move.  I am, at a lower-mid level, just now able to begin exploring these skills, albeit in the beginner areas.  Even then, in this game, opponents scale.  The first creatures I fought, at the beginning of the game, are still dangerous.  It is more that their flaws are known much more precisely and I have more choices of weapons or skills.  It will be some time before I truly master some of the moves and skills.  The nice thing is that once I have them, they transfer nicely to another type of character... with some minor learning curve and extrapolation due to weapons and armor actions and reactions within the game.

It does give me something to occupy my time as I try to figure out my next real world moves.  When I am up to that again.  A down period is for movies, books, and games.  Since I despise Hollywood, can't focus enough to read... games it is.  Since I can't get up enough to go out, and have no one to play with out there, I'll... stick to electronic games.  It's what I've got.  I seem to be crashing "early" today.  At least I was able to hold my schedule slip in check in order to take a trip Saturday.  That actually surprised me.  I didn't think I was going to be able to make it.  I didn't sleep much the night before, couldn't.  But I was able to manage staying up and pushing through the day... as prepared as I could be.

Well, yes... bedtime.  Good night and... good day! 

The other sight.

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A dream, really.  But some dreams are different.  Some dreams are just dreams.  I think these were created and developed to help us deal with the ambiguity of the world.  A place for asking what if... filling in the blank without reservations, morality, logic, but not necessarily excluding those.  And perhaps exploring that.  Other dreams, for me, are prophetic.  Prophecy is only the naming of the potential.  Some more strongly, some more weakly... some without a doubt.  But no man may know, not for sure.  I don't care for those dreams, in some ways.  It's like loving to cruise on a ship, then wandering into the murky down-below, where the machines grind, oil and sewage water and hard things exist.  There is a beauty to it, but no surety, and yet absolute certainty, given specific givens and inputs.  Then there are the dreams of time past, some of it mine, the flesh suit I own has had a... rich past.  And there are dreams of other people's past, though some of those, perhaps, are me as well.  And there are some dreams of my future.  Not quite... prophecy, these.  Just... their own.  And then there are the dreams... like the one I had last night.

As you may have noticed, my dreams are rather... full bodied.  I don't dream of a butterfly, a lake, and a dragonfly.  I live at the lake, in the example given, and fully realize my living status, my residence or camp, I study the flora and fauna if they are noticed.  I live from a day to years in that dream, and it becomes a part of who I am.  Crazy?  I don't know.  Simply an artifact of a powerful imagination?  I'd love to believe it but I don't consider myself imaginative, not in the... this area.  I am functionally imaginative.  I deal with the reals, and mix and match application, process, and technique.  For example, I consider a lot of crossover between love and war, and have been tops at both... in my areas of those, and for good or ill.  Still, I don't just dream a little dream.  I go live somewhere, become someone, or even something, else.  I have been a bear, a wolf, and an eagle, in that order.  I ate, thought, hunted, and lived, socially and singularly, as each beast.  No simple small dreams.

In this dream, and this type of dream, I... don't understand these.  It is as if I am looking through myself, looking through myself.  I am highly dissociated from the lead main in the dream, and yet I think it is me.  These are the dreams where I see myself, for example, as the rider of the red horse.  In these dreams, I might be that, or some other aspect of it, or see some way that this came about.  But I am and am not who I am.  So it was with this dream.

In it, I found myself, somewhere in middle life.  I had been, and agreed to be, a product of and for war.  I had been trained for combat.  Not the type of warfare a soldier or general or typical military asset would encounter, but all out warfare.  Then I was trained to be a general, given the same operational freedoms as before.  I was taught tactics, given real combat commands, taught to see the enemy and his motives, through his actions, and to be able, and willing, to sacrifice this unit (men) or that for the scheme.  None of it is... pleasant business.  Some sacrifice, or offer that, of themselves.  Others have an even more terrible burden.  They must sacrifice others.  I was created to be both.  A bastard of the way of war.  A bastard I am, and so it should be no surprise.  Simply, the notion, sometimes, catches even me flatfooted.

I was taught hard.  I was taught well.  I was given nothing, but what was needed.  I often had to make due with less, or even nothing, and in real world and hostile environments.  I learned to not die, I learned to kill, but I had to survive, or not.  Training went beyond the battlefield and enemy territory, engagements and ghosting.  Beyond the world of flesh, the education went into the mind.  Deprivations, starvation, indoctrination, literal practical professional training.  I was separated from myself, so as to be what was needed and wanted.  Torture was something I endured as part of it, perhaps even in my combat situations.  I learned escape.  I learned many things.  Including when to fight, how to fight, with whom to fight, when to go alone, and how to sacrifice everything I loved in order to win.

I was not taught about greater good, God, the worth of men.  I was, however, chosen, in part, because I already had the attributes in these areas that were seen as satisfactory.  The hope was that neither would unbalance the other.  The goal was to have a man who loved and obeyed God, had a respect and love for mankind, and yet could set aside these things, or balance events and actions through a process that a computer simply can't replicate.  A weighting scale with a greater latitude for perspective than most men can naturally have, even in the worst of situations.  Can you surrender yourself?  Many can.  Can you surrender your family?  Your allies?  Your leg?  Your morals?  While many men have done so, they didn't often do it willfully, only regrettably.  The difference may seem slight, but it's not.  There is a universe of difference between the two.  What is the gain, is all I will say.  I can't be bought, negotiated, threatened, or blackmailed.  I am.  If, that is not all I am.

Sweat rolls, sometimes, in such dreams.  Burning.  Much humanity was sacrificed in the making of this man, or me.  Things so delicate, so precious, but so costly to carry where I was being created to be sent had to be... removed, eliminated, killed.  Things were lost, or set aside, beyond that.  Take the breaks out of an automobile, or the sugar out of soda, and the thing becomes less inviting.  And, in the dream and in real life, considering these things is painful.  But there was a method created, so that the war Pinocchio could still be a real little boy.  An alternate ego, as common parlance might term it.  A being created from the ashes off all the innocence burned on that pyre of and in sacrifice.

For the most part, when people meet me, it is this that alternate ego they are meeting.  But it is not all they are meeting.  Some know it, others don't.  Whether this is all in my mind, a trick, or if there is something cosmic, divine, or real to it... that I don't know.  I just know... it's as real... no... more real, than I am.  I have no idea how to deal with such dreams, notions, or that reality.  So... I don't.  I see it, I write it out, and I... let it be.  There is some pride, and joy, to and in it.  And some great sadness.  In equal parts, but grand in ways most could not understand without building themselves into a mobile temple fortress.

Well... that was my dream.  Now I will... try to... just live.  Good day.

Brutal.

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Not my day.  It is good.  Other than needing another day of rest.  It wasn't completely unforeseen.  I spilled the wind from my sails fairly liberally last week.  My lower back was spasming yesterday and last night.  I couldn't roll to a place that didn't cause problems, or get my legs situated so they didn't cause problems.  Anicin has been a friend.  Now the pain has worked up to the lower part of my shoulder blades.  It almost always, for me, works it's way up.  It is milder, where it is now located.  I honestly wonder if the pain moves up, because as my body braces for the pain, it stiffens and makes itself sore.  The option is that I can, sometimes, only sense just so much pain.  So I feel the worst.  As that fades, I then sense the next worst, and so on.  No worries, but that isn't what this post is about.

As I have said, I used to be a royal sob.  No, you wouldn't have known it from talking to me.  It was how I lived.  Hard.  I played, worked, and socialized in just such a manner.  I made, and broke, women, friends, and coworkers.  I demanded the sky and gave no room for error, sloth, laziness, and such.  Given the givens, that is still true.  I didn't help, nor hurt, I had my own things to do.  I wasn't even happy with perfection, when I could produce it... within mortal constraints mind you.  Hard as steel and twice as cold.  My folk loved to hate me, and I didn't care, regardless of what I said.  And they knew it.  Can't lie with a certain look on your face.  "Sure, that's fine.", I might have said, while viewing them with the same look I give to dead decayed fish.  Harsh.

That, to be honest, hasn't changed much.  I still have to be careful with my expressions.  Children, and even grown women, can cry when I get a sour gloom on my puss and they take it personal, or sometimes even just seeing it.  Hell, my cats will hide, or get that guilty look, at times.  While I have come to God, I am what I was.  I use Him to temper the wrong parts, but do not shield the righteous parts of that.  None shall pass who haven't really thought about things.

I don't even always like what I am.  It would be so much easier to just get along to go along.  It would be much simpler to have no literal or figurative limits, objective realities and qualities that must be met, and such.  I sometimes even dream of being a simpleton... a graced existence in many cases.  Though too, without guilt, there is no real innocence.  It is... a bit of an illusion.  I won't claim to know that area of God's will or His way with it, only... that it is different.  It is hard to attempt to be a right man, especially being a sinner on top of it, and a failure as well.  I simply have no choice.  I was made as God wanted it.  My choices are slim.  I do attempt to afford their use, to benefit, when available and I am able.  Still, as I have mentioned, I am a bastard.  And it is a bitch to be one.

Way late to bed and waking.

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I got... stuck... in the game.  Ah well, it will happen.  Yesterday, pretty much, was a day for no rules.  As such, almost as if I had a bit to sip, which I didn't, I have a bit of a type of hangover.  It's a bit different but has some key features.  It'll pass.  Well, and I have upped my insulin to... 40cc's is it?  Something.  That is making me a bit off.  Actually, when discussing diabetes with a friend who also has diabetes, I suggested they compare and contrast hangovers, drinking in general, and diabetes.  As a past frequent, and heavy, imbiber, and now as a pseudo diabetic, I have felt things very much in common between the two.  Now, they won't.  For being spotlessly secular in it's approach, medicine has created it's own set of sins.  Among those sins is alcohol abuse, despite a particularly nasty problem in the medical field of drug abuse by practitioners.  So, they won't do such studies.  Then again, with as poorly as studies are allowed to be run these days, I'm not sure anything they do is worth doing.  Still, if a legitimate study could be performed, leaving morality, secular or faithful aside, I think a range of projects in this area could yield great benefits to alcoholics, diabetics, and our understanding of how the body uses fuels and why some fuels are so desperately wanted once found.

Just waking up.  I should have a bit of coffee.  Don't want to be caught off guard.  Yes, yes, coffee. I saw a nice relaxing scene, then... saw something just a bit off.  See if you will notice.  Anyway, I thought I would share.  Oh, but this sure makes me hungry.

h/t 90 Miles From Tyranny

There is something in there.  I know, personally, that before they were treating my illness properly, alcohol probably kept me alive.  At times it would get to abuse type levels, but addiction did not occur.  Which means, I suspect, the alcohol relaxed my heart, and rest my undiagnosed... probably at the time occasional... diabetic symptoms back to normal, somehow.  As I have suggested, my diabetes aren't normal, don't track well from what I have heard medical types discuss on the topic.  Fluid is the one thing that can alter my numbers, a bit, but by volume, not type.  A case of beer flushed everything.  But, also, it probably relaxed an overtaxed heart, and maybe did some other things.

No, I don't recommend that medicine.  But if the body has a problem, it will see possible solutions, and use them, if the medical field doesn't deal with the problem.  Funny how that works, and probably, as I have suggested, part of why I am still alive, nearly 30 years after receiving an illness that, left untreated, has a one to three year life expectancy.  But, no, the medical field won't explore areas it considers to be a secular sin, and won't explore medical options that don't make it money.  A perfect pair for a hellbound lot.  Funny thing is, these are the very people to pour derision on the greedy, the wealthy, and even more so on those who believe more in real morality than their version of a health based morality structure.  Oh... right... /rant

Later.

A day to unwind.

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Good or bad, up or down, regardless of how much I get done compared to how much I intend to do, when I push it wears me out.  I need a few days, at least, each week, where I can set plans aside, not push, and just rest.  God gave us Sunday, but He also gave most people health.  Even so, when most have their choice, they take Saturday too.  While it seems like I take midweek days off, I really don't.  I usually have plans for that day, even if they don't happen.  Or little plans.  Further, even without plans, if the mood hits and something seems obvious, I go ahead and hit that.  Tonight, if I can, for example, there is trash to take out, maybe recycling, and cat litter.  Little else is likely, and what is proposed isn't guaranteed.  However, if I don't do it tonight, the hope is that I will do it early tomorrow.

Tomorrow I need off.  I have been doing, or planning, or traveling, or all and more, all week, right into Saturday.  At least the event Saturday, for me, was light.  I didn't have to drive, and everyone was focused on everything but me, and didn't really have the time or space to just sit, so... for a social event, it was rather easy.  The walking was very slow.  If anything would have gotten to me, it would have been that.  It did, short term, but it wasn't a problem on into today.  And it was mild, as the pace wasn't extremely slow.  Yeah, I know, I'm particular.  Or, really, my body is.

The girls are getting, slowly, used to being fed once a day.  To mitigate things, I am offering them treats in the later afternoon, every day.  I will slowly ween them off those, too, at least daily.  A few times a week is more than enough for treats.  Or, when I am celebrating.  Happy times when the treats flow!  I even let them sleep with me last night, to see if they would be... problematic.  Not at all, surprisingly, mostly.  I will still keep that to just once in a while, or they will begin causing problems.  As with treats, when it is occasional, it is appreciated.  I've almost got them trained, as much as cats can be trained.

I still can't believe, sometimes, how well I am doing for my condition.  Remembering the guys, of my age, being carted in by their wives or whoever, into the heart clinic.  Most of them were on oxygen, some where brought in sitting wheelchairs.  Given the condition of my heart, they couldn't be in worse shape.  They might have other conditions, too, though.  I don't do extremely well, actually poorly, according to the general gist of how living is supposed to be.  It is only when you add perspective that it seems my life is miraculously good.  And I still hope for improvement.  It's doubtful, but not without some hope.

Yes, a few days of relaxation.  Healthy and well enough to push through a tough game.  Eating a bit of rice or quinoa, perhaps amaranth.  I might simply add a can of tuna to some of it, not wanting to cook fish all of the time.  I'm not sure what other meats would steam well, and within the 1/4 to 1/2 hour time?    I won't mess with amaranth much, as it goes bad quickly.  But, as an occasional touch, perhaps added to the others, it might do well.  I'll have to think about it.  I don't like steamed chicken breast, it dries out far too much.  Hmm...

Anyway...  That is it for today, and tomorrow.  Just rest, relaxation, sleep, and fun.

Up and at it.

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I've been up for a bit now, actually.  I did sleep late, but then I went to bed late... I think.  Last night is a blur.  I've been pushing a lot of things, and not just physically.  Planning, organizing, working, tinkering.  Sometimes interconnected, sometimes in little side projects, most of it with some sort of time stamp.  I am not doing everything I want, maybe not even everything I could, technically.  Yet I may be doing more than I should, definitely more than I thought I could, if I am still not happy.  I drive the beast that is my flesh as hard as I can.  Well... today is a day off.  I have visitors arriving later, just in a bit really.  But that isn't a burden.  Mostly, today, it is about relaxing and gaming, most likely.

I do feel the efforts of this last week.  A few days out, a larger project, a bunch of business done and more to come, little efforts here and there, planning, gauging, shuffling, and doing.  I am tired.  As I have mentioned, though, this is the type of tired, and sore, and aching, that I like.  I hope to be done with the negatives, and be back to functioning by Tuesday.  No promises.  If I can't get up, though, guess what?  I won't.  I want to take care of business Tuesday, then shooting Wednesday, if possible.  We'll see.  The rest of next week will be about figuring out, and cleaning, the cave... with a strong emphasis on getting the garage and work shop area arranged. 

Well... on with... relaxing until company arrives.  Good day.

Good day.

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I did have to push it, but was ready easily in time.  A trip from morning to early afternoon, with a meal in there.  Love free meals, even if they cost coin.  At least once in a while.  A fine conversation.  Imagine, if you will, a Mormon burner.  A bit more stated, from an earlier generation perhaps.  But the notion is there.  There is much that seems common, and much that is different.  When asked about the most recent pope, I suggested that, while he has brass, I don't abide him.  He is a socialist and socialists can't be Christians.  *raised eyebrows*  Yep.

He did raise a solid... contention.  But, thankfully, one I have considered easily already.  But, won't heaven be socialist?  Aye?  Not a chance.  No one in heaven, or on the new earth, will need.  We will be self-sufficient, and able, and know our places.  If we go back to the living of the Garden of Eden, we won't even be required to sustain ourselves by the sweat of our brow.  A penalty for choosing to do what God said not to do.  As well, if women still bear children, there would be no pain.  So, ideally, perhaps the spirit of socialism will be there, if I can't see a reason for a theory in a place and time where there is not need.  Further, the kingdom of heaven is more like a literal kingdom.  It has a King.  I think, however, that too will pass.  In those future days, God will be Father and brother, the Holy Spirit will have a specific role then... most likely protecting the imperfect, by choice, souls from destruction through access to Grace.  The Holy Spirit will become the chasm, and fiery case, for hell.  Yeah, no.  I went through this long ago, when, as a youth, I was trying to figure out how to hold out for socialism.  It won't even exist.  A few minutes later I queried if he considered himself a socialist...  No, no, not really.  Bad timing on the question, mind you.  But my answer is the same, and would have been, in any case.

Of course, that was just one part of the conversation.  Much else was discussed.  He was a bit surprised to learn that I had read the New Testament by 10, 9 or 10.  No, Doom wasn't a normal little boy.  I wasn't qutie a freak, either, one way or the other.  I was comparing and contrasting.  I read Mein Kampf at 11 or 12, studied history from 12 to 14 which is why I turned from crony capitalist socialism... already having turned away from populist forms of socialism which are also known as forms of communism.  I was a busy lad.  I felt obliged to try to figure things out.  I then, for later, until I returned to God in my thirties, drifted.  I realized there wasn't a secular order, or means of ordering life.  Even as my life was falling apart, I was sparring for a heaven on earth, secular truth, or even a way to heaven that didn't require God.  In other words, I went down every blind alley, every dead end, every mistaken belief, until I realized there simply isn't a back way to heaven, and no man-made or earthly way.  Them's was a lot of hard miles, boys and girls.

I understand.  Some people have not had the freedom to truly explore so many venues, ideas, even to put some of them into actual play in their lives and explore with serious study, others who have chosen other paths.  Hitler, Lenin, communes here in America in the 60's and 70's, earlier in Israel and for the Jews in pre-WWII Germany.  None of them went as planned, succeeded, or were even good.  They became hellholes, the worst of which ended up in Jim Jones type communist cults and dead or ruined.  Hellbound.  There is no way to God save through the Son, with the blessing of the Holy Spirit.  Never, ever, think otherwise.  And don't mistake the fruits of this world for the fruits of the next, or think one equates to the other.  Even should a rich man become the camel that seeks and solves the eye of the needle, his blessings were spent, here, most likely.  Still...

After the trip and talk, plus the busy week, I was tired.  Oh, I tried not to be snarky.  I think this man is truly trying to understand, and fit it all together, like everyone else.  Just saying...  Anyway, I took a good, long, hard, nap.  I needed it too.  In it, many dreams.  I had a woman whispering sweet nothings in one ear, with promises I doubted if she could keep but didn't mind right at the moment, and God whispering in one ear about loyalty, duty, and responsibility, that comes with freedom.  The other whispers were so fine, I didn't take any umbrage with God laying on the Fatherly advice.  It was more like...  "Where do I SIGN"?  Heh.  Never mind.  There were a lot of nicely dressed woman today.  Pleasant, mostly, and prettied for a social affair.  I'm sure that had nothing, no thing, to do with it at all.  Gah!  I still think God cheats when it comes to some things.  Thankfully, he cheats for both sides, and against our willful, wanderlust, sinful, nature... somehow.  If we just let Him, He cheats against us by cheating for us, an somehow in all of our favor.  I REALLY want to learn that trick.  :)

Well... on to... something.  I am thawing a few more fish.  I have a better idea of how long it takes to cook that part, and will have it with quinoa this time.  From my experiments with the stuff, it takes about as long as brown rice to cook... so... thirty minutes, and more water than white rice (so I can't cook three cups... which are their cups, so not even actual cups (3/4 cups, I believe).  The fish takes about 15 minutes to steam.  So, half way through, via a timer, and give or take, while I am stirring the seed or grain anyway, I just add the fish then.  It's a wonderful little kit.  And all I have to clean is the bowl and the rice scoop, plus a fork.  Paper plates, baby!  And, more Dark Souls.

I am enjoying Dark Souls.  Frustrating, aye.  But interesting, so far.  I have played several characters, though will be erasing one and starting another.  It's not that I believe I messed up beyond recall, it's just that... I didn't quite get it right.  I took some bad advice and that cost me.  But no more than a blind run through would have, perhaps less.  I had a springboard of wrong, for my play style and such, from which to compare and contrast.  It is truly one of the more painful, unforgiving, frustrating games I have enjoyed in a very long time.  I'm tricky this way, in that I do figure it out... if only eventually.  However, some of it can't be figured out until... hmm... until enough practice, trial, and error.  Lots and lots of painful error... another name, in this game, for lots and lots of personal/character death and lots and lots of figuring out how to not do what seems impossible to not do, at first.  And all the great advice...  "While you are running back to your corpse, figure out why you died." ...  "While you are dying, think about what, exactly, killed you... again, again, again."  Heh...  *punch on the nose*  Think about not being cute!  Oh, I know.  And they are right.  It's just that "right" doesn't salve hurt feelings, anger, and such.  Yeah, a bit more of the game, after I get the quinoa (kwin-wa) going... if the fish are thawed.

Later.

Ready already.

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I won't be driving, so there is that.  As with most trips, especially if it has been a while, sleep the night before is difficult.  I did get some rest and some sleep in.  I am as rested as I can be.  It should be just fine though.

I dreamed many dreams in my various sleep sessions last night but nothing solid remains.  A few ideas might be in there, somewhere.  If I can snag the lines too them, and fill them out a bit.  Some of the ideas were, from what little I could remember, perfect blog fodder.

It's time.  Good day.

Well, I did put in the effort.

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I was just moving too slow.  I was too easily distracted.  So I won't be making it to town today.  I got a shower in, tried on the new pants then dressed, stowed some ammo, then looked at the clock.  Too late.  The places I need to visit will be closed Monday, and I had suggested I would go shooting Tuesday.  I think I will have to postpone the shoot.  I'm in grace period for some things, and I don't like that status.  If nothing else, when I finish with work, I can still take my friend for a meal, then plan to go shooting Wednesday.  It's... what I can do.

The jeans seemed okay.  They haven't been washed, so...  But they seem pretty much what I remember.  The hiking/tactical pants seem a bit fragile.  Now, thinner, sometimes, is nice... for hiking, or even shooting.  I'm not going to say they are what I had hoped, but I will give them a chance.  And they do fit just right.  The ammo cans are wonderful things.  Every shooter I have known has had many of these, for the most part.  It's just one of those things... tradition... but with reason.  They are quite heavy, when filled.  I think, though, that the weight is a part of the appeal.  Weighty things should weigh a lot?  Something like that.

I am a bit worn though.  I suppose a day down isn't a bad thing, even with the weekend coming up.  It will be a split weekend, perhaps, anyway.  Oh, and something Sunday, too, if rather lighter.  Yes, yes, I try to stay on top of these things.  I'm not good at it, but I do try.  Another use of the pumice stone on my feet today, as well.  It'll... take a while.  I have a few spots that are harder than regular stone, and quite built up.  My heels are really smoothing out, but I can tell they are still quite thick.  The palm of one of my feet, and a callus on one toe, along with the heels, will take a dozen hits just to make them feel human again.

Just blathering as I prepare to relax.  I suppose I could make some calls, order some medicine, set up an appointment, and check on another appointment.  Then... rest.  But all dressed up, clean, with new pants, and... a smile.  I don't have anything, other than moving a bit too slowly, to grump about.  And moving too slowly, today, makes perfect sense, so it doesn't due for as a cause to be unhappy.  But having nothing to grump about, itself, might be the cause de celebre for a right proper grump?  When frugal by necessity, let not even a full pot cause one to make waste?  :)  Never mind, though I hope you got that.

Well, yes, on to some phone calls.  Later.

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I love it when a plan comes together.  Right after writing the above, I was on the phone to order medicine when the doorbell rang.  My trip tomorrow is now set.  Checking on that was one of my calls, so all good.  After, I ordered my medicines and am just waking to make an appointment with my g.p., I think.  But it's getting pretty close to closing time, so I'm not sure I will get through.  Tick tock.  Time... where does that stuff go?  I'll bet when you find all those lost socks, keys, and wallets, you will find all of the time that gets lost, here and there!   

Finally.  Got through, set up the appointment, and set.  Fasting blood work is required, and it is an afternoon appointment... so... I might just let myself sleep in just a bit that day.  If at home, I can go without food for great lengths of time.  But when I get out there...  I smell restaurants blocks, sometimes miles, away.  Even seemingly burnt toast smells good, when I haven't eaten.  Yeah, a bit of a sleep in, then on to the appointment.  I told the operator my plan, she liked it... got a chuckle.  All good.

Gearing up.

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After a bit of a hiatus in future planning, due to... prepping in areas of... future planning...  Oh... never mind.  In any case, after focusing on a few areas in a way that might seem excessive, but wasn't if you understand things well, I got to a few other areas this month.  One of those areas was clothing.  Pants, like many things, don't seem to be all that much of a problem.  That is, until access becomes denied, or much more difficult.  So, those were on the menu as a general look-see for sales and availability.  This month, next month, a sooner rather than later sort of thing.

Actually I had just spoken to a friend about blue jeans.  He liked Wranglers, as did I at one time.  When Wranglers, in my opinion, went to the dogs and became just an overly priced, lower quality, brand name, I switched to Lees, then Levis, as the brands failed, or proved weak, I kept on... walking.  Finally I sort of quit, and bought whatever was cheapest, because brand quality deteriorated, or wasn't there when I tried them.  Cheap was, of course cheap, but why pay high prices for just as cheaply made name brands?  I was looking for quality, and not finding it.  So... cheap.  In my various samplings, I hit on Cabela's jeans.  No, not the ones that are loose fit for fat boys.  While I am a fat boy, to my way of thinking, my fat is where it belongs.  I don't need extra hip, thigh, or such.  Just a little... bigger shirts.  Actually, not even that, because of my general build.  My shoulders are large enough, and chest, that... there is always room enough for my belly.

Cabela's jeans, when I first found them, were about $20 a pair!  That was back in Iowa, when Levis were running $60~$80, or maybe $45~$60 on sale, if memory serves.  So I pulled the trigger, thinking, even if they only lasted a few years, like the more expensive jeans, I would be fine.  Couldn't lose, unless they literally fell apart right away.  Some cheap jeans did fall apart that quickly.  If so, though, then I had something to bitch about.  And you know me and my like of having something for that, on tap, as often as possible.  Daily, people, daily.  These jeans impressed me, initially.  Well built, comfortable, the color lasted.  The first two years of wearing them, I just couldn't believe the quality at the price.  Here it is, seven, eight, maybe ten years later and... I am still wearing the original jeans I bought, but not as old jeans.  They look almost as good as when I bought them.

The problem?  I bought several different sizes, through time.  At the time I was wearing 44's and 42's, and a few 40's as my "skinny" jeans.  Through time I bought a few pair of 38's.  The 44's are unwearable now, the 42's feel like waders but if I cinch my belt I can look like a homeless man, but the 38's just don't quite make it all the way up (yet?).  Remember, back then, I wasn't on a water pill, so my size varied greatly, and sometimes changed very fast.  The size of these jeans is vital, as the fit is pretty absolute.  Anyway, having two pair that fit right, and six pair that didn't, left me always washing, and looking.  So I bought three more pair of 40's.  The rest will be retired to storage, just in case, saved for trade, or even just as material supplies.  And in as good of condition as they were bought, pretty much.  And, the jeans I bought were on sale... for $21.  Heh.  I also bought a couple of hiking/tactical pants through Cabela's, also on sale, a type I have been considering for years.  The price was very right.

Actually, this all came about from a sale on metal ammunition cans locally.  I planned to buy a few, and saw them "on sale" downtown, for $20 per.  Which, from what else I have seen, was a decent price.  But I have been, slowly, learning that looking around is a good idea.  So I did.  I went online, and saw a sale on them for $14 per, on one supplier outlet store.  Then, thinking about pants and my conversation with my friend, I wanted to see if Cabela's carried these, and the current price for the jeans, while looking the ammo cans.  My jeans situation has been an annoyance since shortly after I moved here, and definitely since starting the water pill.  Yep... that saved me from having to deal with a new company, and then I noticed the sale on pants to boot.  Done, done, and done. Never enough, mind you.  The ammo cans are a start to a proper storage system for all that.  But I now know what a good, and what an excellent, price is, and to look around.

The cave might be a mess, I might have a dozen and more projects half in and out of here and there, there are promises I have made that I can't seem to keep, the cat's litter needs changed, and I may never be caught up, but... a few things, as I can, are being tended.  I love me some blue jeans, especially at that price and quality.  I just need to try them on, make sure I got the sizes just right and the fit is the same, then... a shower and to town.  Yeah... But I had to open the boxes, then do just a bit of advertising, bragging, and such.  Later.

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By the way...  I do not work for Cabela's, I do not make money from their sales, of jeans or anything else.  I don't even fully trust Cabela's.  Something... odd about them.  I merely do business with them.  A bit out of habit, a bit out of the notion of what they seem to stand for, they seem to be reasonable business partners, and any time I find quality, I trumpet it.  Especially when it is very reasonably priced and, to this point, very solid quality.  No, I don't even trust my mom, completely, on everything.  So, don't take that little neg as anything more than my own... quirk.  Get your own damned paranoias and leave me to mine.   Just thought I'd clear the air and do some target practice while at it.  :p

Not exactly stellar.

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But it WAS morning when I finally got out of bed.  Some time after 10:00, perhaps a bit past 11:00.  Considering I didn't get to bed until after 2:00, as it turned out, and have been burning both ends of my very weak candle, then trying to light a fire in the middle too, I won't complain.  And, aye, I am sore.  Roughly feeling like I was run over, sort of everywhere, with a particular spiked sensation in the upper middle of my spine, just between the base of my neck and the middle of my shoulder blades.  And, actually, it feels great.  This is pain an old, underutilized, overweight, most dead body feels after it has been pushed to it's current upper margins, maybe even it's maximums, and not just once, but for a period of time.

While I am greatly underwhelmed at my accomplishments even so, the sensation is a form of... proof of penance.  I have high expectations.  When I, or others, honest hurt all over, I know... I at the stage where pushing will do some actual good.  Some say pain isn't gain.  That gain can be had through math, or physics, or tech.  Some don't know what gain is.  Some also don't know what a really enemy is, what the environment without modern conveniences is, or what is coming.  I've seen those things in my past and in the future.  If you want to know, part of it, just for a week in the summer and in the winter, turn off electricity and the gas to your home, use your feet, a horse, or a bike to go everywhere and do everything, don't turn on your computer or smart phone, and then we will talk.  More?  Then go live somewhere people are starving, and immoral.  Enemies aren't always enemies by choice.  But an enemy is an enemy.  I won't challenge you to go where you could get shot, that training has... costs you probably aren't able to suss a learning from and survive.  But... that is on the way.  So, when it hurts like this, I try to figure out how to push just a little further.

When I woke, I honestly thought about not going to town.  It wasn't that I was too sore, or tired.  It was more that I woke still a bit grumpy.  And I thought I might want to not keep pushing.  Then I realized Monday is a holiday, so I will get more of a rest than I would have wanted.  Plus, I realized that pushing while tired is what it will take.  So, after a few hours of waking, and a shower, I will get in to town and figure things out, and have another easy meal, with a friend.  Like?  What's not to like about taking care of my affairs and stretching?  I think I will shower right away, so that I have plenty of time to airdry.  I like that little feature.  Putting socks on, right after a shower, means soggy feet.  Air dry, all I'm saying. 

Oh, and I received something suggesting I make an appointment, and I need to order some stuff anyway, so a few phone calls as well today.  And I need to check on a possible trip, for tomorrow.  Yes, yes... then I get Sunday and Monday down, then I am already planning for an outing Tuesday, give or take.  I am missing some things, but doing all, and more, than I thought I could even so.  Only so much I can do and I am doing that and more already.  Choices.  And, yeah, it hurts all over.  Bending over to pick up all of the brass, and shortly after a meal, removing, reinstalling, removing again, and laying the toilet in, and doing something nearly daily this week...  The body is as grumpy as the mind was yesterday.  Yum!  Later.

Burned out.

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Quite a day.  It didn't start out right, it went wrong, got back on track, then became pretty good if it stretched a bit further than I should have let it.  I even picked up all the brass I could find after shooting.  If I had to guess, I would guess there were between four and six hundred rounds of brass to police.  And I did it a bit too shortly after dinner.  Bleh.  It's all good, and good for me.  Now I need to figure out how to cool off to try to be to bed by 0:00.  The hope is to, even yet, make it to town tomorrow to take care of two taxes and a license renewal.  Plus, I told my friend, if I could, after doing business, I'd get him out for a fast food meal.  It's not much, but it's different from the day before.

I need to call to see if the trip Saturday is still planned, and when it might be.  Between now and then I had hoped to read a paper, for comment.  But I don't think that is possible.  I have been running myself pretty ragged.  Reading is just... either it is my only priority, or it isn't possible.  I've got a half dozen books on my list, from the heavies like Summa Theologica, and possible The Irrational Atheist, on to more entertaining reading.  I... just... can't... do it.  I did read the bible that one summer, not to far back, New, then Old, then New again.  But... I was pretty much cloistered in that affair.  I read six to ten, perhaps even twelve, hours a day, at least six days of the week, for the better part of a couple of months.  But... I didn't, and wasn't able or in the mood, to do much else.  One, or the other.  Still, it's a goal.  I want to debate the paper, tear it down, support what parts seem reasonable, dispense with anything that isn't, and argue the points that are reasonably arguable.  Just as an exercise.  As I have mentioned, want isn't... always available.  Heck, I go without need quite often.

Hmm, now to try to chill.  Oh, I finally found my pumice bar and used that on my feet in the shower.  I guess I was a little afraid it would be too abrasive.  As it turns out, it was just fine.  And my heels are... well... still like a gravel road.  But better than the rutted gravel road they had been like.  A week or two, or over some time, and I think I'll have human feet again, mostly.  On days I can shower and chill, I might even use lotion on them.  Look, when the skin, anywhere, is thick enough to crack an half inch deep... it's time to... do a little something.  You know?

Burned out, used up, tired, a little sore, but full and satisfied.  I'm still just a wee grumpy.  My friend got an earful.  It wasn't aimed at him, just... other drivers, women drivers, men drivers, college kid drivers, the lights, the signs, the...  I'm glad he was tired of shooting.  Actually, I think he was laughing, sometimes just on the inside, when not rolling his eyes.  I saw him grin.  Entertaining, was I?!?  Heh.  I hope it was entertaining for someone.  A good night of sleep, an easy morning, and perhaps I can attend business and a late lunch tomorrow.

Good night.

It's a quarter to one, but that isn't too off.  Sure beats a 4:00 or 5:00 bedtime.  I just can't sleep until I have let the wound springs clock down.  I hope your sleep is good.  Mine should be.

I had almost forgotten.

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Almost.  When the call came in, I was pretty much ready for it.  My friend, shooting today.  Right.  The first time he called, I answered but he must have fumbled, or become distracted, on his end.  Though, sometimes, connections are just odd.  I have found that trying to call him, or my mother, back, after such a botched attempt, usually isn't successful.  So, hanging up and waiting for them to call back is the only ploy that might work.  After a bit he did call back.  "Well, are you awake yet"?  Good question, the answer, as usual, is yes and no.  I told him I would get there between 14:30 and 15:00.  And, I should be able to make it.  He is hungry, as am I, so he suggested midlunch first, a little bullet shopping, then on to the range.  Sounds great to me.

A shower, first, and probably a little tinkering with the game Dark Souls while I air dry.  Yes, yes, spoiled, in some ways.  But after the last few days, taking it slowly, if possible, seems wise.  You can only push just so much, and going shooting is pushing, so I might as well relax a bit on this part of the thing.  Plus, I'd like to get started.  I am a bit confused about Dark Souls, not having played, or even heard, of it, until recently.  I hope it isn't just a multi-player piece of crap.  I truly hate those.  I simply won't play multi-player games.  If you want your girlfriends to hold your hand when it is dark, do so.  Just don't do it while playing a game, well, not this kind of game.  If you want to chat, there are chatrooms, as public or private as you want.  Again, don't do that while gaming.  When gaming, I simply want to play.  It isn't for social pleasure.  That's what eyes and faces are for, not toys.  /rant

I am hoping this game has a strong single player aspect, and that the challenge is worth the effort.  Only time will tell.  It has a serious reputation, and if it pans out, there is a newer game in the same line.  There are a lot of choices to make.  Sometimes that can be fun, sometimes it's just drudgery added to boredom and often leading nowhere.  Why have forty swords of similar style and class if none of them are really that much better, or have that many swords because you need one with fire, one with electricity, one with shielding, and you have to have them to get through spots (then never use them again, unless going through that spot again).  Complexity is nice, but, really, I am neither a collector nor a minutia geek.  I absolutely hate when the obnoxious detail is presented merely to be obnoxiously needling but otherwise useless.  *breath*  /rant

Never mind.  I'll see shortly.  But a shower first, and perhaps I'll trim fingernails if I can find the clippers I prefer.  Spoiled.  I need to... work on that.  Or, maybe, I just still a bit grumpy from this morning, and the work I have been doing of late?  That could be a part of it.  Still, I'll be thinking about it.  I hate being just a bit off kilter in this way.  I lean in too many impossible directions already, no need to add to it. 

I am feeling pretty good.  Just a little tired, just a twinge of soreness, but mostly really good.  Uhrm, but still just a bit grumpy.  As I was telling Sneezy and Dopey a moment ago.  I'm not a little Grumpy, I'm a big Grumpy!  :)

Later.

A bit rough, mostly odd.

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I didn't get to bet until about midnight last night.  Which was a little later than I had hoped, but within tolerances.  I set the alarm for 8:00 and slept quite well.  I woke to Sassy making swallowing noises near my ear, meaning she wanted fed.  She hasn't done that kind of stupid in a long time.  Anyway, I pushed her away, nicely mind you.  Instead of going away, immediately, she dug her claws in.  I have no idea what was up with her, but I tracked her down, put her outside, and told her to get her own breakfast.  I was mad, too.  I went pretty light on her, but I was mad as could be.  Further, I have decided to feed them once per day, from now on.  About, for me, midday.  Oh, they will still have hard food available to them, as they want.  Just no more breakfasts of wet food.  I'm going to catch hell for it.  But Sassy is, somehow, getting too fat again.  If need be, I might even have to trim the hard food allowances.  Brat!  Still hot.

The thing is, she woke me very early.  I didn't realize the time until I calmed down a bit.  It must have been around 5:00 to 5:30 when she started the, if short, war of the fur coat, forcing me to initiate operation boot the pussy.  Never mind.  But, after the tactical operations and live fire exchanges, I couldn't get back to sleep.  *tickle, light push* ~ *ssccrratch*  I'M AWAKE!  Funny thing is, usually she really struggles to not be put out.  This time she didn't fuss, or try to run back in.  Maybe she could sense just how angry I was?  Nah.  I think, this time, she knew what she did was wrong.  Oh, and she didn't disappear this time.  An hour or two later, she was still waiting to be let back in.

Now, I was almost immediately exhausted, but even so, couldn't just fall back to sleep.  I had to wait until between 9:30 and 10:00, maybe, to finally be able to sleep a bit again.  I just woke, at about noon.  Worse, the internet died for most of that time.  There I was, barely awake, unable to sleep, tending fresh wounds, with nothing to help keep me going.  Yes, I am spoiled.  If it weren't for the internet and coffee, I would probably sleep way more than I do.  Some think that would be a good thing.  For those who want me dead, I agree.  Sleep is a killer for me, in several ways.

Never mind.  I am, again, awake.  I'll begin actually waking and figuring out my day.  Later.

Tomorrow.

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I won't be going to town today.  Not because I can't, or that I am too sore.  I simply woke too late to get going.  I could shower and just maybe make it in just in time to do a few of the things on my list, or even all of them.  But that would assume nothing went wrong.  A work traffic stop, some other time distraction, possibly even taking a wrong turn.  Further, I am not exactly sure of the hours of operation for some of the places I mean to visit.  Do they close at 17:00, 16:30, or even, effectively, 16:00?  I simply can't be sure.  As is, I don't wish to push into uncertain territory after pushing as I did yesterday.  I will attempt to get to bed earlier tonight, and up early tomorrow, taking care of my business before taking my friend out shooting.  I may, possibly, head out a bit later, just for grocery shopping, and another meal.  HUNGRY.  Or I may not.

No worries.  I sure would have liked a meal out.  But one of the things that arrived at my door today is a rice cooker.  Yeah, I know.  I said I really didn't want one.  And, I still hold to that.  After having purchased one for my mother, to great reviews, I decided to pull the trigger on one myself.  One never knows, but some certain trusts in some certain others can allow for risks to be harbored.  Such is the case with this item.  I bought a smaller one, since I don't cook for groups, but it does have a steamer basket as well.  Honestly, steamed food is not my favorite.  It is usually flat... bland.  It removes what little fat is in what is already rather fatless.  Not a good thing.  I suppose, a smidgen of butter on top of, say, a fish fillet, might help.  And it is a rather easy way to cook.  I may give that a shot.  And it should work equally well with quinoa, millet, and various types of rice.

A few other items, the near last of a line of purchases, arrived as well.  Some ammunition to check a specific rifle, to see if it prefers specific bullets by grain of bullet, velocity, or type of bullet... a cleaning rod specifically for that rifle, a tripod for the chronograph I intend to buy next month for exacting reloading, and a few other items along those lines, or long on my list for past projects or needs, or future ones.  As with canning, I may never get to it all.  But I will surely be geared for it in some smaller or larger ways.  Who knows.  I do know nothing can happen if the tools, supplies, and intent isn't there.  And intent is useless without the rest.  While it does sound fun, it is all, actually, a lot of work.  Fun, and successes, and working through failures... those are the payoffs, until a better payoff comes along.

While I am doing a few other things, I may see if I can bring some order to my kitchen, enough to not only feed my face, but to "cook" the wood finish and create a space for honing.  If that goes well, I will see what of that I can get done.  Success feeds upon success.  And while I am sore, these tasks should be light enough that they won't be too disturbing today, detract from my efforts tomorrow, and perhaps Friday if I am unable to get to town early enough for my business affairs, and the efforts might even loosen up the sprung springs to a better working order.  Shooting is locked in, for tomorrow afternoon, but a morning sprint... is questionable.  I believe I have a trip to make Saturday, earlier.  So I will be working at getting my sleep cycle in order to make that a more pleasant affair.  Yes, I am pushing.  But, for now, and again, I am able to do so. 

While God loves a busy man, I am sure, too, that He understands my difficulties.  I can almost hear Him laugh, at times, in a kindly way.  As a Father who sees his son struggling against the world, and sleep, exhaustion, and frustration, even ignorance.  I know He loves me whatever I can do, or even when I need or want to back off a bit.  It isn't my struggles that please, if they might entertain.  It is not my trials, but my faith, that will grant grace.  And yet... He built us to... do... like Himself... only, in our immature ways, so far, because of choices and where we are.  I don't mind the chuckles, if I sometimes raise a brow, and in a familial way, suggest if He is too ornery about it, that we will tussle.  I can almost hear Him breaking into great laughter and suggesting "Crib time!".  :p  That is actually comforting, in many ways, even as it might be a little vexing.  Even one so powerful, in my ways, as I am... to know my place, and surely, is like a warm blanket to a baby.

Later.

A pleasantly hard morning.

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Did I actually write "morning"?  Work with me.  Just...  *wink and nod*  It was just about noon when I woke.  I couldn't go down until about 4:00, but went down fast and probably a bit too hard.  Lots of aches and pains, but of the sort I really like.  All physical, all from work.  I was doing the equivalent of yoga, with a decent amount of weight, yesterday.  Lowering this piece at a slow enough rate so as not to chip, or shatter, the glass weight, but lowering it with fine details so as to allow bolts to go through small holes.  On my back, on my knees, almost always bent over, often bent and twisted to look around, and up to the underside of where some things needed to connect.  All... day... long.  So, really, I wouldn't complain at twice the pain.  And, actually, I am surprised that the pains I felt while falling into sleep did not worsen.  No extra swelling, no extra burn from muscles, no nerve twinges as my body unwraps nerves that must have been twisted about bone and other immovable objects in there.  No, not even a good solid hard body of pain.  Just... a little twitch, burn, and stiffness.  Oh well.  :p

The toilet, and surrounds, look to be dry.  I have used it twice today.  One for the morning bladder factor.  One just because!  A waste of water, I suppose, but... I have so few successes of late, that making it work was a simple joy.  Do it again, daddy!  *flush*  Oh... yeah.  If I had it, I might even consider champagne.  Well, later.  I am still hoping to get to town and do a bit of business and a little bit of shopping.  Perhaps grab a meal.  Absolutely no promises, mind you.  Just, it's still on my mind and I have some mild hope.

I will say this, if I can do that, I still have some serious potential physically.  While it wasn't demanding on strength, stamina, or sticking to a task, at full blast, in any of those areas, it did require a mid-level push in all of those areas at once.  It means there is still something, or somethings, I can do.  I do need to figure out how to do this sort of thing more often, and for longer term and in more complex areas.  I do need to figure out my all-stops, so as to work around those.  I found that, if prepared, as prepared as you can be when starting any project anyway, the job goes forward much more easily.  Using my down time, working through object failure to function to at least do some prep, and I might be able to do more serious tasks.  Yes, I want it.  The answer?  You can't stop halfway through.  The question can only be asked by those who can handle the answer though.  Hmm....

Now, the next few projects are much lighter.  Sanding the workbench, preparing the finish.  Sanding and planing the wooden supports for the open porch roofs, then staining those.  And, darn it, I want to open up a full place in which to hone one of my straight razors.  Sure, winter is coming.  And I like to go bearded in the winter.  If I can get to this, I can live without a beard for a winter.  It's the idea.  Sacrifices need, at times, to be made.  There are other projects, as well.  Some of my projects are just about to completion of their more expensive legs, so I can move on to... say... purchasing supplies and tools for a serious run at fixing the en suit bathroom.  I am amazed, as I do various little and big jobs, as just how many tools I do have.  I am no longer a humble houseman.  I am nearly mid-level.  A few more tools, if they are the big ones, and I will be getting into contractor level, if more a static one... dependent on one location, an immobile workshop.  But that is good enough for me.  I am, myself, pretty much, immobile.  So it is fitting, for now.

Later.