I went out to meet the bus at the time on the schedule. I was still 8 minutes early when the bus blew past. I am back home, waiting for the next one. One hour later. Reduced service today. Cold outside, but the stars were bright and I have had a way to walk.
Here I want to talk about some lessons I learned: no Coke before bed, especially if it is a “bonus,” second one of the evening. Bad idea to have that 2nd Coke.
I guess I will fire this thing up. Instead of sending emails and attaching photos, I will just post from here. Visitors welcome.
These things ought to be part of the wedding vows, I, ____, take you, ____, to be my lawfully wedded (husband/wife), to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, CPAP mask and all, until death do us part.
I don’t have one, but a coworker started his CPAP use 3 weeks ago and looks so much better and invigorated. He looks as if he has been getting fresh blood circulating, like the vampires that get their fix and the hagged women who take baths in milk and virgin’s blood. Yuk on those mythological treatments, but the CPAP appears to be the fountain of life, the elixir of youth.
Inspired by this, I have begun breathing deeper, and pulling in oxygen consciously. Joan was on oxygen and told me that once a person starts on oxygen, they cannot go back without it. I will breathe prescriptively to get that intake.
It’s the new world order, marching, marching in.
I hear the hoof-beats, the footsteps ever closer
And prepare as best I can.
“Pray you are worthy to escape these things.”
To the wilderness, the wilderness I go,
But to my job tomorrow.
Orphaned, abandoned, alone,
I pack my bag, look around my room.
Nothing to take that won’t weigh me down,
Not even returning for a jacket–flee,
. . . and for sure, don’t look back.
Life is not a bowl of cherries, but a stash of taffy.
when the evening turns that certain shade of blue, watery green blue, then it is time to watch the fireflies dance
fifteen minutes — no more — bobbing the bushes, weaving the trees, skimming the grass
fifteen minutes — start to finish — the dance is done
weeks and weeks of evenings I have peeked through the blinds to see their flashing tails fly
a good summer