Author: Phil RedBeard

Oddly, after my last post, I feel energized. I discussed not being able to choose what to do, and while that problem persists, I do not want to be bogged down anymore and miss out on enjoying life. I want these to be my years of living exuberantly. I want to embrace what I have before me, and not worry about what I can’t do.

I am done with my own internal gate-keeping that says watching tv is wasting time. Lately I’ve been telling myself “I don’t want to waste this evening watching tv” but it doesn’t follow that a few hours of good television is time wasted. There is, of course, moderation, but taking time to immerse myself in good storytelling is not a waste, any more than reading a book is a waste. And the truth is, I miss watching a good tv show or movie. I think I will actually draw up a list of what I am wanting to see and plan times to watch things.

My parents and my sister recently added three new dogs, collectively, to their families. That brings their total to five in one house. At the time, my heart said “that’s so awesome” and my mind went “but…but…is that wise?” In the end, the more the merrier. Embrace the messiness of sometimes doing the unexpected, the un”wise”, and the silly, and if you want to live with five dogs, live with five dogs. Who cares? In the end, my nieces will have some furry companions and my family will have some fun. Will there be frustrations, headaches, and growing pains? Yeah, but, so what? Those pains will always be there, but now so too the sheer exuberance of pups galore. Honestly, my house and yard isn’t quite big enough, but if it was, I might get in on the fun and adopt another dog and bring my count to three.

Soon I will decorate for fall and Hallowe’en. Around north Texas, where I live, it is still hot as blazes, but enough with the noise that says it has to feel like a traditional autumn season in order to enjoy some fall decor. I will put up my fake maple leaves, my jack’o’lanterns, and some fun stuff and enjoy the season. It may be 85F-95F still, but I’ll eat a pumpkin cookie nonetheless! And then when it is time, I will decorate for Christmas and enjoy the 70Fs until it gets kinda cold in January. I won’t let the weather rob my joy.

This year, holiday plans are up in the air still. Do we stay home? Go visit family? Part of me wants to take time and go explore someplace with my wife. Just a few days and our car and the open road, then a quiet cabin and reflection. That to me sounds really relaxing and quite fun right about now.

Speaking of October and November, it will soon be time for playoff baseball. I think I will purchase a subscription to YouTubeTV or something similar so I can watch the postseason. It may cost a bit, and seem frivolous, but its my favorite part of the baseball season, and I want to enjoy the magic and see which team makes a run for the World Series.

I have this dream of visiting all 30 Major League Baseball stadiums, and this year, I won’t get to a new one, and while I am sad about that, I am not going to despair. Instead, I will plan my next trip all the more fervently. Arizona? Colorado? Atlanta? St. Louis? I don’t know where I will head next, but I am excited already to go and experience what is out there. I was taking time to visit a city or region, go to a ballgame, and also go to museums and parks and explore that team’s environment. I want to get back to that idea. There is so much to see and experience, and I don’t want to miss it!

Timidity and fear have invaded my mind and my soul. Cautious living has been my state of affairs, always worrying about what disaster might come next, like a car repair or a household appliance replacement, but in the past, those things have been handled one way or another. Life also needs living. I am not saying I will spend all my money on frivolities, but neither will I put off living to save all my pennies. In the end, that way is sadness and I will have done nothing along the way. I refuse to be someone who spends life not living.

Lately I’ve been thinking a bit nihilistically, wondering “what is the point of X if I am just going to be dead and gone in another XX years anyway” and really, what bleak universe did I jump into? Yes, death comes for us all, but spending the time I have exuberantly before it leaves me is part of the point of life itself. Get out and see the world! Paint a stormtrooper! Take a picture! Read a book; watch a movie! Live, for living’s sake!

When I’m gone, a mathom house can have my stuff, or someone else can have fun with it. It’s not like I’ll need it anymore, but I will have curated a collection for another, like Andy passing along Buzz and Woody to a new kid in Toy Story 3. I want to be Andy, enjoying my toys, and then letting the next person play with them. There is all the right in that.

So what comes next? I am not quite sure yet, but I can’t wait to see what it will be. I think I may enjoy a burrito from Chipotle and then watch a movie. Part of the fun is not quite knowing what is in the minute to follow this one. Whatever happens, I am going to try to enjoy it. Someone once said that life is dirty, and it hurts, but it also feels really, really good. I want to embrace that philosophy to the fullest. Otherwise, I really am wasting my time, and that I won’t do!

It may be a neurodivergent trait, but I often find it hard to choose what to do. I have no shortage of activities waiting for me to pick up and enjoy.

I have four television shows I want to watch: Ms Marvel, She-Hulk, Sandman, and The Orville. I have many movies on my list, including the new Prey, Grey Man, and a few others. As far as reading, I am trying to read a few books: still struggling to finish Dune by Frank Herbert, which I started over a year ago, and Still Just A Geek by Wil Wheaton. I want to re-read Every Tool’s A Hammer by Adam Savage, and have a few others on my bookshelf that I haven’t read yet.

I would like to paint a few action figures, and create some more diorama pieces for my action figure photography. Many canvases litter the craft room, waiting for paint. There is a project for my nieces I have yet to start (shh, it’s a secret). I have other ideas I haven’t even explored.

I have podcasts unlistened to; a book unfinished that needs to be edited and then completed; a blog on which to write. The trouble? I am often struck still by the choices. Which do I start? What do I do? How do I choose one over the other? What do I put off, what do I start now? Most times it seems there is too much to do, other times it seems I just don’t know which direction to go. Occasionally, I dismiss most ideas one after the other and end up with nothing left after five minutes. I sit about and play Scrabble on my iPad or just endlessly refresh social media.

If this is neurodivergency, I don’t know how to overcome it. If it is depression, I don’t know how to dispel it. Lethargy? Something else?

Adam Savage, one of my muses, has said before that when he doesn’t know what to do he cleans his shop, just to gain momentum, and then once he has started to do that, he usually has figured out what to do next, or what to work on. A few times that has actually worked for me, and tonight I simply opened the WordPress app on my iPad. I had the first line of this entry on my mind, but nothing else. I’ve just kept typing and have arrived here.

Sometimes, though, that doesn’t work at all. My craft room isn’t untidy because I haven’t used it. Nothing is out of place. If it feels as if I am making excuses, I am not trying to, but it isn’t like I can pick up a broom and start sweeping the carpet. A few times I have gone and sat down on my spinny chair and just looked at my easel, my action figures, my paints, and whatever else just to see if something strikes me. A few times something says “work with me” and sometimes I just spin in a circle.

Frustration mounts and I still don’t start anything. I don’t have a permanent solution. To reading, I have begun a reading journal. I write down the date, the time, the book, and the page numbers just to track what I read when. That has worked three out of four nights in the past week, so that may be an impetus to get me reading again. I wonder if I should create a calendar: Mondays for baseball/tv/movies, Tuesdays for writing, Wednesdays for podcasts, Thursdays for crafts and painting? But what do I do if I can’t engage in that evening’s task, just sit there? I don’t know.

What gets you going, when you don’t know which of several great choices to choose? What sparks your creativity? What gets you out of the fog and into the clear light of day? These aren’t rhetorical questions, if you have answers, do feel free to share them. Otherwise, I am going to keep contemplating what I can do to help myself out of the mire. Tonight I took a nap, something I almost never do in the evening. Well, nap is a bit of a misnomer. I reclined with my CPAP mask on and closed my eyes and let my mind drift. I could breathe easy, and just bounce from thought to thought. It ended up being refreshing, and I’ve even managed to write a little something. Tonight I’ll call good.

Which is the other little thing I’ve learned to do: celebrate the small victories. Even a diminutive accomplishment is what Adam Savage would call “forward momentum” and success really can breed success. I at least have a feeling of satisfaction at the end of the night, and that feels good. Today, I really had that sluggishness of mind. But a little, what, meditation?, and then I wrote something. Boom. A little success, a little dopamine (is that the correct brain chemical?) and I’m feeling better than I was an hour or so ago.

I’ve written about this before, but the fact is I am able to do more and more than I used to be able to, and and each time I spend less and less time in the doldrums. That itself is encouraging. So I suppose if I am saying anything with all this it is: don’t give up on yourself and find a way to move in any direction. Once you are moving, you can change directions more easily, and you’ll always end up somewhere else. If you don’t move? You’ll stay exactly where you are and grow old there. I’d rather go somewhere, and any way I can get moving I’ll take.

One of my dogs is sleeping, buried in a couch pillow next to me. The other is resting his head on the couch cushion, begging me to pet him. Occasionally, I oblige with a few rubs. My wife relaxes in the recliner, working on a crotchet project. Warm, late evening sun is making the closed blinds on the window glow with golden light. Behind me, the air conditioning whooshes cool air into the house. It is a peaceful evening that ends the week of hell.

It all started last Sunday, when a friend of our housemate came to stay with us for one night that turned into two, and was a stay fraught with stress. She turned out to be manipulative, and while I am still not sure what her endgame was, she wanted to take more than we could give her, and we ended up needing to force her out of our house. I don’t blame my housemate at all, she had no idea who this person really was. On it’s own, it was a two-day event that one could move on from, but it turned out to be only the beginning.

The next day, Tuesday, our water heater ruptured. The tank sprouted a bump on the back that began to leak whenever we used the water, despite having turned off the heater and shut off water to the tank. Cold water, as it turned out, was still circulating through and filling the tank, causing it to leak out of the rupture. Fortunately we had picked up some free puppy pads, and among other uses, they are extremely absorbent and managed to sop up the leaking water.

My wife and I didn’t have the ready money to replace the water heater, and thought we had enough of a limit on our credit card to cover a new one, though we hate having to carry such a large balance on the card. I shopped around, and eventually settled on using Home Depot. The box home store would provide and deliver not only the heater, but also the plumber to install it. All for double what our credit card balance was. When he told me the final price, my heart skipped a beat. We can’t afford that, I told him, with dread in my soul. I took a copy of the estimate, and was forced to turn him away while I stood staring at our old, slowly leaking water heater. To be clear, for what work needed to be done, the estimate wasn’t exorbitant, it was right on, but we simply didn’t have the required funds to cover it.

It wasn’t too long after this that my wife and I, and our roommate, headed to court for a hearing. A little while ago, our housemate had been talking a walk through the neighborhood when she was suddenly and viciously attacked by a pack of dogs that had broken out of their yard. They chased her down the street, biting again and again, causing grievous bodily harm. It has been a long process of healing for her, and part of that was a hearing to determine whether or not the dogs involved should be put down. My wife and I wanted to support our housemate in her hearing, but that turned out to be a multi-hour affair in which the defendant, who was representing himself, badgered our housemate with questions, argued with the judge, and made a menace of himself in the courtroom. It was altogether exhausting, upsetting, and nerve-wracking. And after turning away the plumber that morning, by the time we all got home from court, what emotional reserves we had were leaking out of our spirits like the water still dripping from the water heater.

In despair that night, my wife and I discussed what to do. None of us had showered, and we were trying to use as little water as possible for other things so as to minimize the leaking. We called family and friends, but were unable to secure any funding. Finally, our housemate came through. She has been helping us throughout her stay with rent, though there is no formal agreement between us. She has been faithful to help with the mortgage payment, and we have been as family to her. She offered to pre-pay the next several months of her contribution, through no obligation of hers, and it was exactly what we needed to offset the extra cost of the installation. I called Home Depot that minute and rescheduled.

But that day was not yet over. The man who owned the dogs, who badgered our housemate on the witness stand, who has threatened neighbors, civil servants, and been a public menace, came to our house. He was standing outside for fifteen minutes before we knew he was there, swearing and muttering to himself. We have a Ring doorbell and caught footage of the event. We retreated to a back room and called the police. While at the courthouse, we had been escorted by a Marshall to our car, even after this man left (he was free of charges, and free to recover one dog – the rest were ordered destroyed). We feared retaliation, and thought this was it. However, the man left of his own accord, though was walking down the street when the police arrived. They strongly encouraged him to leave us be, and threatened him with criminal trespassing charges should he ever be caught stepping foot on our property again. Our housemate and my wife were thoroughly shook up and frightened, though we went to bed safely.

The next morning, after trial, tribulation, and trying house guests, we finally crested the wave of difficulty. The plumber returned Thursday morning to complete the installation of a new water heater. I worked from home on my laptop while he did his job. It was the quietest, most professional work we have yet had in our journey of needful home repairs and improvements. My wife had returned to work, and our housemate went to a friend’s house to shower and study. Good news was ahead yet: while at work, the chaplain of the university at which my wife and I work, presented her with a check for the amount of money we put on the credit card to cover the water heater. Between an Emergency Fund that we didn’t know about, and our housemate’s generosity, we could buy the heater without incurring a heavy balance on our credit. With that blessing, the rest of that day passed mostly without incident – until evening.

That evening my wife and I had a spat. The tip of the moment was a small dispute, but it really was the outpouring of emotion from our week of hell. We ended up having a long, intimate talk, expelling many frustrations, fears, and feelings. It had been coming for a long time, and was a cathartic release when it finally happened.

Yesterday, Friday, was the first normal day we experience since the previous Sunday. Surprisingly, nothing terrible happened. It was quiet at work when I went in for a few hours, while my wife stayed home for some peace and tranquility with our dogs and her yarn. Today, another workman came to examine our washing machine, which has developed a nasty thumping on the spin cycle. Turns out it needs a few parts replaced, and that will happen next Tuesday afternoon. I spent the morning watching some videos on YouTube from Adam Savage, former Mythbuster turned Maker extraordinaire. I then installed a new security camera outside the house to give us further peace of mind, and evidence should our neighbor come calling again. My wife and I have spent the day quietly (I went to Home Depot for some crafting supplies) and this evening we had a nice dinner and watched a TV show.

Tomorrow, I hope for more of the same: a quiet, relaxing day. I wish to work on some diorama pieces for my toy photography, and take it easy. I hope my wife will do something that brings her joy as well. Together we may just endure whatever is over the horizon. If it be maladjusted, I trust it will be slow in coming. We could use a break from the horrible just now.

I know many people struggle, and there is much evil in the world, and shit happens, but usually you don’t get all of it in such a short period of time. I relate this week from hell, not for sympathy or pity, but for myself, to put in place what has been. It is usually said that one has survived everything that happens to them, from birth to the present moment, yet without expiration, and how true that is. Nothing has been bad enough to kill me yet, and everything past is prologue to the next day. I feel strong to confront it because of the scars and muscles I now bear. Life shouldn’t be this way. Men shouldn’t raise aggressive animals with cattle prods. Needful repairs shouldn’t cost you more money than you have. Your house and neighborhood should be safe places for you to take a walk and relax while watching a baseball game, or crotcheting, or petting your dog. But sadly that often isn’t reality, and so we endure and search for the zen where we can find it.

Maybe we will have peace for a while now. I know we will at least have hot water and squirrel’s eye view of the neighborhood around our house. And we will keep going. We can hold to the love we have for each other, my wife, myself, and our housemate, and our families and friends. And that is stronger than any evil or maliciousness that would stalk from without. And that is an encouraging thought. In time, it is the little acts of love and kindness that keeps the darkness at bay, and we have that more than a dragon has treasure.

I’ve been here before.

It isn’t exactly a secret that I’ve been married before. In 2010, I married a girl I knew from high school before I’d even graduated from university. She and I had been through a lot already together, and I thought I had found the person I would love forever and grow old with.

Sadly, it was not to be. Whether because we were truly incompatible, or too young, or too afflicted with mental illness and other troubles, we soon realized that being together was driving us apart, she sooner than I, and just after our third anniversary she left. It would take another year for the divorce to be finalized, but we really didn’t make it past three years together.

Today is my (second) third anniversary. I married again in 2019, this time to a woman I had only known about a year. But it was clear from the beginning that we got on very well together. She had never been married, but had experienced enough previous relationships to know what she was looking for. Similarly, having been there before, I also had a clear idea of what marriage meant for me. Once it became obvious where we were headed, we saw no reason to wait and went over to the Justice of the Peace to make it official.

Lots of thoughts have been firing in my brain about my new third anniversary. In some real ways, it feels as if I am on the edge of a precipice. Having been through the failure of one marriage, I am in no way eager to repeat the process. I haven’t exactly been holding my breath for three years, but at the same time, I feel like I’ve been waiting for something to go terribly wrong, and for this one to end in tragedy.

That doesn’t seem to be happening. In fact, it is exactly the opposite: my wife and I enjoy a stronger marriage today than we had three years ago. We have been through many challenges, fights, and upheavals in three years (covid, anyone?) that could end and have ended other marriages. Today we are happy and ready for the future.

Obviously I don’t know what the future holds, but I trust and hope that it will be with my wife beside me, facing what it brings. I wish to reach four, five, ten, fifteen, even as many as twenty (and more!) years together. Honestly that feels an incredibly long time to be together with one person, but I am excited to see how we advance through life as a couple instead of as individual people.

I have many flaws, and still face the challenges of mental illness and other difficulties. She would be the first to tell you she hasn’t arrived at the plane of perfection either. We are works in progress, separately as well as together. The only way to is through, and marriage is hard work. Anyone who says differently either isn’t married or isn’t trying. I don’t care how much love you have for another person, or how attracted you are to them, there is work to be done to love a person at all times in all ways. Love is a verb, and it takes effort to action.

We have built something good here, and I trust it will endure. Neither of us is going anywhere separately, but have committed to going as two together. Three years. Wow, has it been that long already? I can hardly believe it, and yet it has been a good, fun, difficult at times, three years. My previous marriage was in January, and if I were to ascribe meaning in hindsight, getting married when things are at their dead-est may have been a harbinger of the doom to come. This go around, we got married in July, and while in Texas that means some truly hot weather, things are yet growing and enduring. May that be a good omen for us: when things are trying, we can thrive through them.

Some of my favorite memories with my wife are the adventures we have shared traveling to Michigan or Pennsylvania or North Carolina, and the quiet moments hanging out in our studio, she working on crochet or a painting, me taking a toy photograph or watching baseball on my iPad. That is what together-life looks like: the quiet moments with occasional adventures thrown in. It isn’t all excitement and drama and flash, thank goodness!, but it is also quiet and peace and watching a sunset.

I love my wife. I am so thankful that three-ish years ago, I mustered the nerve to send her a Facebook message asking to get to know her better. We met over the lunch line, and soon were taking walks with her quirky dogs, going to see The Lego Movie 2, and getting comfortable with each other. Three years later, we share regular lunches at work, and dinners that we cook side by side, still love on our (sometimes) ridiculous dogs, and enjoy watching The Mandalorian in the evenings while deepening our relationship. I like that I can be me in this relationship, she be her, and that is what continues to attract and draw us closer. In the end, that is what will hold us together through whatever comes next: our individual strengths blended into a strong cord that won’t break.

Three feels good. Tonight we will do our typically fancy thing: go to Red Robin for burgers, and then to the craft store. It may not be wine and high dining and exotic indulgence, but it is exactly what suits us. I can’t wait!

I’ve only had a brand new mattress twice in my life. My brother told me, prior to my most recent mattress purchase, that I spend more time on a mattress than I do in a car. That is absolutely correct, but in the time since I bought my last brand new mattress, I have owned over 5 cars. Now, some of my cars didn’t last because of accidents, but still, I have historically paid more attention to what I drive then where I sleep.

My first new mattress was purchased from a mattress store, I forget which, in 2010. My ex and I had just moved to a new town and wanted to buy a grown up bed and mattress, and took the time to go to a store and lie down on all the mattresses available and pick one out. We also bought a very nice bed frame on which to put the mattress. It was a pillow top of some sort, and actually very comfortable from what I remember.

That mattress was sold on the second hand market three and a half years later during a divorce, as was the bed frame. In that time, until now, I have slept on whatever mattress was available at the place I lived, or a couch for a year following the divorce, and nothing was very comfortable or accommodating. But I didn’t have much ready money, and real, grown up mattresses are not cheap. I mean, cheap ones can be had, but you really do get what you pay for in this regard. It is really worth it to buy the best you can afford, without spending ridiculous money, because I don’t think quality rises, necessarily, with the price beyond a certain threshold.

Fast forward to 2020. My wife I and had been sleeping on a full size bed with corresponding mattress, and needed a bit more, ahem, space. It’s not that we don’t like each other, but we needed room to roll over without bumping into one another and disturbing sleep. My sister had a queen size bed frame that she was getting rid of to accommodate her daughter moving into her first room outside the nursery, and it came with a standard spring mattress. I had slept on it before, during a short time when I lived with my sister, and it wasn’t too bad then. So my wife and I inherited a “new” bed.

We’ve slept on it ever since, and while the frame is perfectly acceptable, the mattress was, well, not. It started to compress rather rapidly, and try as we might to adjust where we slept or how we turned the mattress, there were valleys and depressions forming. It translated into back pain for me, and discomfort for her. Plus, that mattress transferred motion like a waterbed, and any time one of us would turn or toss, it would rock the other’s dreamworld. So we needed something new.

We knew we didn’t really have much more than $1000 to spend, and didn’t really want to go to a store to get a mattress. Plus, the smart money is now in the foam mattress-in-a-box that you can get from a variety of companies. After polling my family members, who all have one of these box bed cushions, I came up with three brands: Tuft & Needle, Ghostbed, and Leesa. I researched them all. What I found that was beyond our price point, there were all sorts of options and things, and each brand had their own version of cooling layers, support foam, and what have you. However, the entry level mattresses were all remarkably similar.

This is what I expected. Innovation is where the money is, and that is where you can charge your customers more. But for a basic, entry level foam mattress that will do the job and be what someone on a budget wants, it appears you can find what you are looking for at most manufacturers. In the end, Tuft & Needle had more or less exactly what we needed, and we went with an Amazon.com listing of the entry level mattress from two years ago to save a few bucks versus buying direct from the manufacturer. As I said, the company has iterated and improved since then, but also charge more for it. I figure that what was revolutionary two years ago is still perfectly adequate for now. After cringing at the fact that we were spending a lot of money for a mattress, but with my brother’s words echoing in my ears, we made the purchase.

Said mattress was supposed to arrive on Monday. It came this Sunday morning, just after eight thirty in the morning. My wife and I woke up, removed the old and busted (which was from 2008!) mattress, and promptly hauled many pounds of vacuum sealed mattress-in-a-box up the stairs. It unrolled quickly, and then inflated even quicker once we figured out what side was up and removed the final bits of plastic. Still, the instructions said to give it 2-3 hours before we slept on it, so I went to run some errands and my wife washed the sheets. Finally, just after lunch, both sheets and mattress were ready!

Apprehension has clouded this process for me. What we spent is a lot of money to our budget, and we want to make sure, like anybody does, that we made a smart, wise purchase. I was worried about what would happen if this mattress wasn’t comfortable, didn’t suit, or for whatever reason wouldn’t work out. How do you return a queen size mattress? Would we get our money back? So. Many. Variables. So I slept on it. I needed a nap anyway, and it was the perfect way to take a trial run on the new Tuft & Needle foam mattress. It took all of five minutes. Five minutes for my back pain and discomfort to melt away while I lay there, drifting off to sleep. I woke up 45 minutes later (I wasn’t going to sleep the day away, after all) feeling very comfortable and refreshed.

Tonight will be the real thing. My wife and I will try to get a full eight hours on the mattress and should be able to tell in the morning if we need to do something different. Or not. Tuft & Needle, even through Amazon, gives 100 days to try out the mattress or return it for your money back. The info card with the mattress says to give it a week to really break in the mattress and for your body to be used to it, so there may yet be more of an adjustment period. But we will see. I am hopeful. Given what I experienced this afternoon, it seems great. I really don’t want to try to return this one and go through that hassle. I really do want a comfortable, supportive night’s sleep every night. That is what the advertising says, and I really wish that to be what we get.

I’m sure I will update later on this year with what happened during this experiment on cloud nine. For now, things are looking good on the horizontal plane of existence.

As I type, it is early on Saturday. I can hear birds out my windows, chirping and calling to the dawn. It is a good thing the windows are closed, as the heat and humidity outside, even at this time, is close to unbearable. Today will be another day of triple digit temperatures where I live. My weather app shows no end in sight, and no relief, from this type of weather. September will come before a cooler climate settles here. But I am unconcerned: air conditioning is a wonderful invention.

I am looking forward to a slower day today, a day of rest and relaxation. I have an appointment later this morning, but after that, not much is scheduled. Taking it easy is the name of today’s game. After all, I have been working hard on the job and at my parent’s old house for several weeks. They are moving, have mostly moved, to a new house, and at work we had a new senior staff member be hired and there was much to do for their arrival. Happy is the man that has things to do, but I am glad at the moment to have both tasks mostly behind me.

It is dark here in this room, what my wife and I call “the office” but what is really a craft slash hobby room. (We should have a better name for it, I suppose). She has a table set up for painting, and I have an easel for my painting and a table for my photography and making. There is a desk to my left, but it is covered at the moment with crochet cactus, an enduring craft hobby of my wife’s. She loves to crotchet, and currently is obsessed with making little succulents and larger saguaro type cactus. Along one wall there is an open window, where I can see trees and the brightening morning sky. Perpendicular is another, larger window that at the moment is dark. I installed mini blinds last night, and they are yet closed. Finally, the other wall has two IKEA chairs where we mostly hang out. Her crocheting or working on listing crafts online to sell. Me to watch baseball on my iPad, or write, or read, or just relax and be close to her. I love this room.

I installed blinds for several reasons: one, the window was perpetually “open” to the neighborhood, and thus we had little privacy, especially at night. This is a second floor room, but from a distance we realized anyone could gaze into the room and see our goings on. Two, the aforementioned heat. This window receives quite a bit of light, and with it the warmth of the sun. We want to be able to see out, but also block sunlight when necessary, so blinds made more sense over curtains. Three, it makes this room a little brighter at night, with the lamp light reflecting off the white blinds. We purchased cordless blinds, and I must say they are wonderful. Installation was a bit of doing, but only because I used my screwdriver instead of a drill. The process was quite easy. I am happy that my skills as a handy-man are improving, but it also seems that equipment is made to install easier. Between the two, I do ok, having managed to install a TV mount a few years ago that has yet to fall off the wall, and do a few other things around the house. Satisfaction comes with being able to do the little things for yourself, at least for me.

A dog started barking just now. I think she is the black dog that lives next door; I am uncertain of her breed. She must have woke and seen a squirrel or a stray cat. We have many of both, surprising given the predator-prey relationship between the two feral varmints, but there you go. At any rate, the dog has become a bit of a nuisance herself, lately removing herself from her yard and trotting over to ours. Our roommate was recently viciously attacked by (other) dogs, and is a bit shy of wandering canines at the moment. Spot, I believe this dog is called, is gentle, but there is still the understandable uncertainty surrounding an animal one doesn’t know. My wife was forced to call animal control as the family next door seems unconcerned about the fate of their dog. Again, that surprises me. Why would you have an animal you don’t care for? She is barking again, and another dog in the neighborhood is responding. It reminds me of the Twilight Barking from 101 Dalmatians.

My day proper will have to begin soon. My morning routine is comforting. I didn’t think I was one for the routine, but such things are like a easy chair and a quiet dog on the lap: they help to settle me down. Anxiety can often creep into my mind, and knowing what to do, and when, keeps that at bay. I check my blood sugar; I take my morning medication; I drink a protein shake, and I’m done. Easy, simple, and yes, comforting. I do what I can to take care of myself, maybe not as much as I should, but is that not true of us all? But it helps to get my morning off right. Thankfulness is mine for modern medicine that can help identify problems with my health, and at the same time, offer solutions to manage those problems. In the before times, I would worry excessively about health, and other things, but since I nearly died from Covid a while ago, I take a day at a time, and try not to worry so much. I learned then that I really have no control over death and life ultimately. Still, I take the meds and try not to eat too much sugar, but I don’t worry so much about it. It is helpful for me to routinely do what I can, and let things sort themselves out as they will.

Hopefully today will be as quiet and relaxing as I think. I need a little of that right now. I saw a movie yesterday, Thor: Love and Thunder, and that was a perfect way to spend a few hours. The movie wasn’t perfect, but the time spent in the IMAX theater was. Today I have my appointment, then maybe painting a Star Wars figure, taking a toy photograph, sitting quietly with my wife, and I don’t know what else. That part is exciting: never knowing quite what will take place. But about time to get about it, I think. Time to open the blinds, stretch, and go downstairs to begin my routine. It is a good morning.

Another holiday. Another mass shooting. Are those fireworks or gunshots? I’m not sure I can tell the difference anymore. The freedom to keep and bear arms is infringing on other’s pursuits of life, not to mention liberty and of happiness. There is no independence here, unless it be the freedom from living. I’m so tired. In memorial to those who died north of Chicago at an Independence Day parade:

Today’s the day, kids!
Celebrate your freedom!
The tyranny of peace
Cannot hurt you now
That you’ve drowned
In your own blood,
Lying on the parade pavement
While overhead, bullets fly
Screaming like eagles,
Screeching about freedoms.

Today’s the day, kids!
Celebrate your freedom!
The tyranny of sensibility
Cannot hurt you now
That you’ve breathed
In all the gun-smoke,
Lying on the parade pavement,
While overhead, people run
To hide and cry and fear,
Forgetting about freedoms.

Today’s the day, kids!
Celebrate your freedom!
The tyranny of moderation
Cannot hurt you now
That you’ve waved
Your own little flag
Lying now on the parade pavement.
Overhead, bullet spangled banners
Snap in the breeze
Symbolizing our freedoms.

Today’s the day, kids!
Celebrate your freedom!
The tyranny of safety
Cannot hurt you now
That you’ve died
Lying on the parade pavement.
Overhead, politicians send
Thoughts and prayers
Meanwhile, your death
Fertilizes our freedoms.

Today’s the day, kids!
Celebrate your freedoms!
The tyranny of – I can’t.
I memorialized Memorial Day
With the memory of a mass shooting
And Independence Day?
Fireworks exploded like bullets exploding
From gunmetal barrels to murder
People standing on scorching parade pavement.
Maybe what’s out of control are our freedoms.

Give up your freedoms,
So that another may live,
Surrender your guns,
So that death may come aging,
Leaving the parade pavement
To be trod again.
It couldn’t hurt you now to lay aside
The tyranny of the 2nd Amendment.
Celebrate your freedom!
Today’s the day, kids!