%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
My thoughts released; a mind set free |
|
These pages contain my thoughts, from meandering ideas and persuasions to deep cerebrations and serious mentations. Why, for what purpose? To release my mind and set creativity free. Somewhere inside the constraints of my mind dwells a writer, a poet, an artist who paints with words. In here, I release those constraints and set the artist free. Perhaps, lost somewhere in the depths of thought, is a story or a poem, waiting to be written. |
| The forecasted "extreme cold warning" has arrived. I woke this morning to a beautiful sunrise, twin sun dogs, and no degrees; the digital thermometer indicated it was 0oF. By noon, it was -5oF, and when I took my wife to work at two, it was -20oF. The Yukon was in the garage, plugged in and ready to go. But when I opened the overhead door, the brace that the opener attaches to bent. The door did open and close for me, but I still thought it best to repair it before it failed and caused even more damage. It's one of those unwritten laws that states things will break in the worst cold snap of the winter. Knowing I wouldn't be able to do much to repair it without having heat, I grabbed the kerosene can and brought it with us. After dropping my wife off, I went to the gas station and filled the Yukon up, and then went around back to the kerosene pump and filled up the can. Pumping fuel about froze me to the bone! The temperature had dropped a few more degrees, but I was dressed for the cold. I wasn't, however, expecting it to be so windy. Yes, sustained winds of 17mph with gusts reaching 43 mph have us with a -29 °F windchill factor. After I returned home, I transferred the fuel to my torpedo heater and turned it on, then brought the dogs in. You know it's cold when your Husky beats you to the door (normally, I have to coax him in with treats during the winter). By the time I returned to the garage, it was warm enough to work on fixing the door. I swapped out the damaged brace with the one below it, thinking they were the same. They were almost the same, but the holes were off just enough that the opener wouldn't attach to the door without having to drill new holes. It took a bit longer than anticipated, but the door is fixed. I will have to purchase a new brace in time, but I'll save that job for a day when it's at least above zero. It's currently -26, and it's forecast to keep dropping until it bottoms out at -30 with the winds continuing to blow through the night. It's a great evening to snuggle up in front of the fireplace and read a good book. Although our house doesn't have a fireplace, we do have an electric fireplace that will do just fine. |
| We had a fairly mild January until recently, when the temperature dropped well below freezing, and some days didn't even climb above zero. I'm using the Fahrenheit scale; if it were Celsius, I wouldn't mind at all. When it gets this cold, doing things outside becomes more difficult, especially as I get older. But, at least my sensitivity to the cold from chemo has passed. But, as unpleasant as the cold has been, we are now going into a deep freeze; this is the part of winter I truly dislike. What I'm talking about is the Extreme Cold that's arriving tomorrow; we are now under an "Extreme Cold - Watch" from Thursday afternoon through Sunday. Not only will the temperature drop well below zero, but with the winds, they are warning of dangerously cold wind chills as low as 50 below zero, which could cause frostbite on exposed skin in as little as 10 minutes. Of course, I know how to dress for this extreme cold, but wearing that many layers makes it difficult to move. It also causes a person to sweat if they exert themselves even a little. And with even a little sweating, the layers lose their insulation, and frostbite becomes a danger despite all the clothing. As well as being dangerous for people, it's also, it's also hard on equipment. Automobile batteries lose power as the temperatures drop, oil becomes extremely thick, grease becomes solid, and things tend to break and fail more easily. Starting a vehicle in below zero temperatures is difficult unless the vehicle has an engine heater. Even if the vehicle starts, traveling in sub-zero temperatures is dangerous, and it's wise to have an emergency travel kit along. We keep our vehicle in the garage, and even though it's unheated, it helps. We also have an engine heater on our main vehicle (my old Dodge Ram does not have an engine heater, so it's not driven if it's below zero). Even with an engine heater, there's the problem that if we go anywhere, there are no outlets to plug the heater into. This isn't serious if the vehicle isn't left for long, or if it's left running. But, leaving the vehicle running costs more in fuel, engine wear, and risks some shady person stealing it. So, even though I'd prefer to just stay at home until we escape the deep freeze, I'm going to be driving my wife to work until the temperature rises again. Why? One reason is no place to plug it in to ensure it will start when she gets done with work at eleven o'clock at night. The other reason is that it's hard on a vehicle to run it for just a few minutes in severe cold weather. It's about a ten-minute drive to her work, and it takes that long for the vehicle to warm up, and it's not enough time for the alternator to recharge the battery after a cold-weather start, even with an engine heater. So, I'll keep it plugged in at home to make it start easier. Then I'll drive her to work and return home. This will provide enough time for the battery to recharge completely and for the vehicle to warm up enough to prevent condensation both inside the vehicle and inside the engine. The forecast indicates the arctic temps will end Sunday afternoon, and hopefully that will be the end of the severe cold, and we can return to our normal freezing temps for another month. By March, the worst of the cold has usually passed, but March is when we get the most snow. |
| Yes, we are going to try to sell the HiLo camper I was working on two summers ago. We had bought it very cheaply and tried to repair the water damage, but it's still in need of a lot of work before it's ready to use. One problem is, it's supposed to rise up for camping and drop down for travel, but the water damage caused one back corner to hang, and despite all my efforts, I could not get it to stay up where it's supposed to be. It does raise and lower now, but it flexes the hell out of the corner, and it's only a matter of time before it's leaking again. We had thoughts of bracing it up and using it like a regular fifth-wheel camper, but the person I purchased it from towed it in the upright position (it was stuck) and told me it was terrible to tow that way. There's also a lot of finishing work to do inside because we had to half-gut it to repair the water damage. With the cost of building materials, it's going to be spendy. Finally, there's the issue of time. I've already spent one summer and fall working on it, and it's likely going to take just as long for me to get it into usable shape. Someone who knows how to do this kind of work could likely have it fixed up and ready to use in a few weeks, but I'm no carpenter, and with my health issues, it takes me a lot longer to do things; some I can no longer do at all. We also have our pop-up, but again, it's become a pretty difficult job for me. The last time we had it out, my wife had to do almost all the setup. Also, we love camping and would go year-round if possible, but a mobile-tent (pop-up) isn't the easiest thing to heat, doesn't have A/C, and requires a lot of loading and unloading. It was great for us when we got it, but now, with health issues, it's not the best. The situation is much like it was when we tent camped and had to move up to the mobile-tent; now it's time to move from that to a hard-shelled camper. It's the natural evolution of a die-hard camper. Yesterday, we went and looked at an older fifth-wheel camper that's for sale about seven miles from us. It's old, 1998, but it's in great shape, and the price is right for us. There's no hurry to move it (it's stored inside for the winter), so we can wait until spring brings warmer weather and the snow's melted to hook onto it and go, or the current owner will deliver it to us, if needed. (I have a fifth-wheel installed in my pickup, but we took it out for the winter and put the topper back on.) All that's left to do now is to pay for it and sign the documents to put it in our name. I'm excited to get it home, load our camping gear, and head for the woods. While we wait, I'm planning on looking into a solar setup for the times we camp remotely, and once it's here, I want to put a rack on the back to haul our kayaks, gear, and, if needed, our generator. With all the unknowns in my life and my recent wake-up call that life's short, I don't want to waste time rebuilding a camper when I could be out camping. Now, I can do that. |
| Yes, holey buckets, as in the song by the late and great Hank Williams Sr. - "My Bucket's Got A Hole In It." I know, most people mean "holy" buckets, but I ask you, how in all of Hades can a bucket be holy? Maybe if it's been washed in and filled with holy water? I don't know. I do know that buckets can and do get holes in them. But, I digress. I do that, you know. As I was saying, "holey buckets, it sure did get late before I got in here." It's been a busy day, but my wife and I did get a lot done. As I blited a few days ago, the meat store sold my fat, and I went off. I didn't yell or cuss, I didn't direct it towards anyone, but I did make it known that I thought the sale of my fat pissed me off. The next day, my wife called the manager and complained to him. He did offer an apology and told her that he would make it right. He did, we got a call that we had ten pounds of freshly trimmed fat ready for pickup. Not only did he get us our fat (that sounds funny), but he also had it sold to us at a discount. The price was $0.99 a pound in the past, but now that they sell their own tallow, it's $2.99 per pound. However, in making it right, we only had to pay $1.50 per pound. One of the tasks I wanted to accomplish today was cutting, grinding, and rendering the fat. We found it renders better if it's ground up like hamburger, so it takes longer to prep, but it cooks down faster and better. Tomorrow we drive over to St. Cloud. Actually, about fifteen miles south, to my oldest son's, to visit for the day. Hopefully the roads are good, we had about three inches of snow and winds gusting to fifty mph today. It's also forecast for temperatures to drop to -6°F tonight and only climb to -2°F. We will come back tomorrow evening so we can be ready for my wife's cousin and wife, who are coming here on Sunday. It's going to be a busy, but enjoyable weekend. However, depending on how late it gets, I don't know if I'll be in here tomorrow or Sunday; we will see. I do know, it's great to have some energy again. I have a long way to recover some of what I lost, and until more time has passed, I don't know how much I'll get back. I'm staying positive, just as I have through all of this. In case you're not familiar with "My Buckets Got A Hole In It", here it is: |
| Yes, these are uncertain times. My wife works today and then has six days off. She didn't take any time off; it just worked out this way in her work rotation. Also, for the first time since last spring, we don't have any medical appointments. The only thing we do have going on is a visit planned to our son's this Saturday, and on Sunday, my wife's cousin and his wife are coming to visit us; weather permitting, of course. We had planned on making some road trips, but where and when are undecided. The forecast is for colder weather, and that also makes traveling uncertain; we don't like traveling far from home when the temperature is in the single digits and below (Fahrenheit). Of course, it would also be enjoyable to just stay home and relax. Six days with no plans, just taking each day as it comes. Nothing for certain, no plans, just being spontaneous. Yes, we are looking at some uncertain times through the next week. |
| We have been purchasing fresh meat from the local meat market for a few years. The price has been competitive, but the quality has been much better. The only exception has been their ground beef, which tends to be slightly cheaper than that found in grocery stores. But all good things must come to an end, and this seems to be true with the local meat market. It started last fall when they began construction to add on. Almost as soon as construction began, prices increased. But getting good, fresh meat was still worth spending a little more. Then, we purchased a chuck roll (a cut sourced from the shoulder region of the cow). Normally, we butcher these into a few roasts, some strips, some stew meat, and the rest we grind into hamburger. This time, however, it wasn't local beef, and it was very tough; too tough to eat. So, today I ended up grinding all of it into hamburger. We also purchase fresh beef fat that we render into tallow for cooking. I had stopped in last week to purchase ten pounds, but they didn't have any on hand. They said they would have more in a day or two, and wanted to know if I wanted to have them hold some for me. "Yes." The guy took down my name and phone number and said he'd call when they had some ready. He did, too. He called yesterday and said they had ten pounds set aside for me. I asked if I could wait until today to pick it up, and he said that would be fine. So, today I drove in to pick it up. But when I asked for the beef fat, I was told they didn't have any left. I pointed out that I had been called and told they were setting ten pounds aside for me. The guy looked at the board full of notes and asked for my name. He looked at the notes, found my order, and went and looked in the back. He returned empty-handed and informed me that someone had sold mine. I was a bit disgruntled and told him so. After all, it's very cold out today, I had driven in specifically to pick it up after being called, and had wasted my time. He didn't even apologize; he just asked if there was anything else he could do for me. My wife and I had discussed ordering a quarter beef from this store, so I asked him if I did order a quarter beef, would I get it all, or would someone sell it? He said, "It has happened." I did notice tubs of tallow in the cooler by the door as I was leaving; one-pound containers for $12.99. |
| There's a song by The Fabulous Thunderbirds, "Tuff Enuff"; I'm sure you've heard it. I thought of this song when I sat down to eat my dinner. My wife's at work, so it's just me and the two dogs, Max and Bellah, home to make and eat dinner. They would probably love helping me cook, but I don't think that would work out very well, so it was up to me to decide what we would eat. I had taken a beef roast out of the freezer yesterday to thaw in the fridge. It was cut from a beef chuck, yes, the whole chuck we had purchased at the local meat store. In butchering out the meat, I had cut a six-pound roast for the weekend, anticipating company. It didn't work out because they had gotten sick, so the big roast went into the freezer. Tonight, I decided to cut some off this roast and cook it up for dinner. I cooked some up for Max and Bellah, set it aside, and then proceeded to work on my dinner. I thought a stir-fry sounded good, so I chopped up some vegetables and sliced some beef. Soon enough, dinner was ready. I sat down and took a chunk of beef out of the medley and popped it into my mouth. I chewed, and chewed, and then chewed some more. It was like chewing on a hunk of rubber. I couldn't get it to break down and had to spit it out. Everything else was good, but the beef was so tough I couldn't eat it. Of course, the dogs didn't care. I don't think they chew half of what they eat. As I stated, as I sat there chewing and knawing on that beef, "Tuff Enuff" popped into my head. A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group"  "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
| My wife called this afternoon from work, but I didn't answer because I didn't recognize the number. It turned out she had forgotten her cell phone at home and had called from her work phone. She left a message letting me know she needed me to bring her phone since she has to use it to clock in and out. I dropped what I was doing, got ready, and drove in. I decided to fill up a couple of water jugs (our water isn't the best for drinking or coffee, so we refill 3 and 5-gallon water bottles) and pick up a few things since I would be in town. I brought the dogs with me since it was another nice day. They love to ride with, but if it's too hot or too cold, they have to stay home. We went to my wife's work first and dropped off her phone. Then I drove over to the store. My first stop was the water fill station, and while I was filling up water bottles, a woman about my age came over and just stood there watching me. I said, "Hi." No answer, she just stood there, no cart, no nothing, just watching me. Next, I went to the meat counter to get some ground beef, and this woman followed me, staying about ten feet behind me. Next was the diary section, and again she followed. I started to walk over toward her, but she turned and hurried away. I returned to my job of gathering a few items, but noticed she was still following. Only now, she was being a bit more discreet. I almost broke out in laughter when I saw her peeking at me from the frozen food aisle. I went to the self-checkout since I only had a few items, and she stood and watched from the pharmacy section. When I would look, she would turn her attention to the shelf. I bagged my items, paid for them, and walked out to my truck. I noticed as I was loading my stuff in the back of the truck that she had also exited the store. I hurried and left while she was walking across the parking lot, and I thought I had lost my tail. But when I stopped at the stoplight, I realized she was in the vehicle right behind me. She stayed right behind me as I drove out of town and headed for home. By this time, I was feeling a bit paranoid and drove past my house and into the next town, where the sheriff's office is located. I turned into the parking lot of the sheriff's office and noticed she followed me. I pulled up just as a deputy walked out and waved him over. I explained to him how this woman was following me and asked if he could find out what she wanted. He said he would, then started walking toward her car. As soon as he did, she baked up and sped off at a pretty high rate of speed. But her luck wasn't good; she almost slammed into a sheriff's vehicle that was turning in. Being blocked now, she started to back up, but got over too far and backed into the snow bank just off the parking lot. She got stuck. They put her in the back of the sheriff's vehicle, and then he came and told me it would be a good time for me to drive home, because she wouldn't be following anyone for a while. He did have me explain everything in detail, got my name, address, and phone number, and then sent me on my way. I received a call about an hour later from the deputy. The woman was being held for stealing a car out of the store parking lot. To my understanding, someone had left their car running while they ran inside, and when she saw I was leaving, she jumped in and "borrowed" it. When asked why she was following me, she said she wasn't. The deputy also told me that she seemed to be confused. |
| That's not quite how my computer or cell phone puts it. They no longer recognize me. I use fingerprint recognition to unlock both my phone and my computer, but for the last two days, my prints have been unrecognizable, or so my devices tell me. I believe them. In fact, it would be more correct for them to inform me that I don't have fingerprints, not typical ones, anyway. When I was working in the sawmill, I lost my fingerprints from handling the rough-cut wood. In the winter, they would come back because I would have to wear gloves to handle the frozen wood, but then spring would arrive, and those cumbersome gloves had to go. Now, I'm not handling rough-cut lumber or anything that should be wearing my prints off, but nonetheless, they are smooth. This is something recent, the last two days. I didn't have any problems on the seventh after my infusion, but by the eighth, I was having difficulties, and by that night, I had to resort to using my PIN. In looking at my finger tips, they are smooth, barely grooved at all. They appear to have been filed or sanded down, either on purpose or by handling rough items. But neither of these are the case. The only thing that could be causing it is the immunotherapy I had on the seventh. There is a risk that my immune system could attack my own body, but the way it was explained was that it would be internal. For example, my kidneys or liver, lungs or heart, it could even be my intestines or stomach; anything. I suppose it could be external as well, but there should be other symptoms, like redness, pain, swelling, etc. This is not the case; other than being worn down, my fingers are doing fine. Well, except for the neuropathy. In fact, I'm feeling pretty good nowadays, except for some abdominal pain. That is another side effect of the immunotherapy, but it's not nearly as bad as it was from the chemo. Just the same, I sent a note off to my doctor explaining the loss of fingerprints and everything else I've explained here. Hopefully, I'll get an answer on Monday. It's too bad I'm inexperienced in crime; this could be advantageous in that line of work. |
| We've had some problems with the squirrels getting into the bird feeders ever since we moved here. This past summer, fall, and into this winter, they have gotten even worse. Instead of just getting into the bird feeders, they are busting them open. We've tried hanging them with the hope that it would keep the feeders safe, but they soon figured out how to slide down the cable and land on the feeders. Next, we purchased baffles (cone-shaped), thinking they would stop the pesky critters. I mean, that's what they're designed for, so it's got to work. It did for a while, but with a bit of time, the squirrels figured out how to slide down onto the cone, lean to one side enough that the cone dips down, then free-fall and grab the edge of the feeder. So, I decided it was time to try something different; I didn't have much choice, as they had recently busted open another feeder, and replacing them was becoming expensive. One option is to purchase an air rifle, shoot some of them, and cook them on the pellet smoker. Squirrels are good eating, and cooked over the wood fire would make them even tastier. But, before I resort to shooting them, I decided to try another approach. After some research, I decided on a shepherd's hook that's about seven feet tall and has a baffle about midway up the post to stop anything from climbing up. I also ordered another bird feeder since all of ours are now broken. Actually, I let my wife pick out a feeder, since it's her hobby to feed them. The problem is, how am I going to get the shepherd's hook into the frozen ground? The solution, build a fire and thaw the ground out where the post is going to go. So, today I decided, since it's another nice day, to do just that. I dug the truck rim (just a round rim with no center, about 18" in diameter and 10" high) out of the shed. Next, I used the ice scraper and shovel to clear the snow away. Once the ground was cleared and the rim in place, I split some wood for kindling and cut up some cardboard (the box the post and feeder came in) to use for a fire starter. I rolled the cardboard up and saturated it with rubbing alcohol, placed the kindling over it, and with little effort had a nice fire going. Since I needed to get a good bed of coals, I've been adding more wood throughout the afternoon. Since I had to tend the fire, I decided to put some more pork chops on the smoker, along with some ribs, since the last batch turned out so good. I set the smoker up in the portable shower that's now a smoking tent, made a pot of coffee, and took the dogs out to romp and play while I tended the fire and the smoker with some hot coffee. The ground is thawed, but the fire is still burning, so I'll wait for it to go down more, then put the feeder pole up before the ground refreezes. The smoker needs to go until at least six to instill a good, deep, smoke flavor. |
| I know I complain about the cold, snowy winters and the hot, humid summers, but it's one of the universal rights of all people to complain about the weather. But all complaining aside, I truly love northern Minnesota. I've lived in other places and, by my own choice, I moved back to Minnesota. But where did it all start? I was born in South Dakota, so by birth I'm a Sodak. Maybe you haven't heard that term; it comes from the old abbreviation for South Dakota, S Dak. I remember having a conversation with a person from Grand Forks, North Dakota, and he jokingly called me a Sodak. I laughed and replied, "Better to be a Sodak than a Nodak." I lived there through kindergarten then moved to Minnesota with my parents after my dad took a job working as a lineman for Minnesota Power. We first lived in a rented cabin in northern Minnesota on Swan Lake. Coming from Dakota, I was captivated by all the lakes and trees. A year later, my parents purchased a house in Nashwauk; a mining town on the Mesabi Iron Range. After high school, I moved to the Twin Cities and worked for a while in a machine shop. The cities were exciting, but too crowded for an introvert. I longed to be back north in the woods. So, I moved back close to the home I grew up in and took a job in a garage in Hibbing. I worked there until my delayed entry into the United States Air Force. I completed basic training in Lackland AFB, Texas, a big change for a northern boy. After basic training, I moved to Aurora AFB, Colorado, to complete my training as an Aircraft Weapons System Specialist. From there, I was transferred to Ellsworth AFB, South Dakota, where I put my training to use on B-52s older than I was. I also did a lot of traveling while in the service, enjoying the opportunities (most of the time) to see new places. After I left the service, I returned to northern Minnesota to be close to my family. I ended up divorced and raising three teenagers on my own, but stayed put so they could finish school in the same district they had always attended. It's also where I met my wife, who also had a couple of daughters attending the same school. After our children graduated, we traveled back to South Dakota to visit my younger brother and decided to stay. But, over the years and a few different jobs, we both missed Minnesota. In time, we decided it was time to return to Minnesota and ended up in St. Cloud. Actually, in Wait Park, which is right next to St. Cloud, a town that soon boasted one of the highest crime rates in the state. Then COVID-19 arrived, and things became even worse. We decided to get the hell out of Dodge. We still didn't know where we would move and kind of just left it to fate. We watched for places to rent in smaller towns and rural areas, but with the state in full lockdown, it was difficult to do much of anything. That is, until we found the listing for the house we live in now. My wife contacted the owner and asked if we could look at it right away, or if we had to wait until after the lockdown was lifted. He answered, "Screw the lockdown, I'm not worried if you're not." We drove for a couple of hours and met him and his wife at the house. After a nice tour and having a few questions answered, we decided we wanted to rent the place. I was eager to get moved since there had been some rioting close to where we lived in Wait Park, so I told him we'd take it. Of course, he wanted to check references first and told us he'd get in touch soon. He did get in touch soon, almost as soon as we had returned home. We started packing and moving the next day, happy to be far away from the riots and the crime. I was back in northern Minnesota, close to the lakes and trees I'd loved all my life. I live in the country, but only six miles from a fair-sized town and about forty miles from a few even bigger towns. We have six lakes within a ten-minute drive, two within walking distance, and two state parks within a forty-minute drive. This song, to me, explain why I love northern Minnesota: |
| Dinner is done. It's done cooking, and I've done et it. I had never heard the term "et" until an elderly person my wife knew decided to try fishing where we had done a fair job of fishing a day earlier. He told her he caught a fish, cleaned it, and then et it. Of course, another elderly Sodak had used the phrase "over yander", which I had never heard before either. As it turns out, et is actually past tense for eat, while "over yander" is just a mispronunciation of "over yonder". Will I still say "over yander"? Mayhaps. But I'm digressing here, which makes me a digressor. I had tossed (not literally) a ham hock, some little potatoes, and some cabbage into the slow cooker for our dinner. My wife had the day off, but had to go in for training today, so it was a good day to slow-cook dinner. It was done when she got home, and it turned out nice. And, since it was also nice outside, sunny and near 50°F, I decided to fire up the pellet smoker and smoke some porkchops. The pork is from a pig we ordered and had processed, so the hocks are smoked, not fatty, and more like ham. The porkchops are also very lean with just a little fat on them. I was surprised at how lean the pork is. I have a portable smoker we got a couple of years ago for Christmas, from my wife and me to my wife and me. We tried it out after we got it, but it didn't work well in the cold winter air. It just doesn't maintain a consistent temperature when it's cold; it cools down too far, then heats up too high. So, I decided to try putting it inside a shelter so we can use it in the winter. I decided to order a portable camping shower to use for a shelter. It's screened on top and has two zippered openings towards the top, and it worked great. It's vented enough that the smoke dispersed well, but it also held the heat in enough that the smoker held a more consistent temperature. The porkchops were smoked at about 250°F for three hours, then I turned them down to 180°F and let them slow-smoke for a couple more hours. They look wonderful, and tomorrow for lunch we'll try them out. It's nice to use the smoker again. With the chemo messing my taste up, and just being sicker than hell all spring, summer, and fall, there wasn't any reason to fire it up. But now that I have my taste back, I'm starting to feel much better, and have a shelter to put it in, I'm looking forward to using it again. |
| It's another hazy, kind of foggy, and sometimes snowy day here; it can't seem to make up its mind. The only thing certain is no sunshine breaking through the gloominess. Even so, my spirits are brighter than yesterday, and I want to put more focus on writing and reading. One thing I want to at least get started on is cleaning my office. It's more of a junk room right now, and even with two desks in there, I'd be hard-pressed to find room to set my coffee down. I think getting my office cleaned up may help me break through some of the writer's block. Currently, I'm sitting back in my recliner with my laptop and subject to multiple interruptions throughout the day. I believe having a space designated just for writing will help, but I know it will take a bit more to overcome the blockage. Another step is to get back into reading. As a kid, I read anything when I wasn't actively engaged in some activity; I loved reading almost as much as I loved exploring the abandoned mining pits that were right outside of town. However, some years ago, life filled my days with so many interruptions and distractions that I became flustered with both writing and reading. In time, the discouragement became rooted and grew into the blockage I suffer today. It's time to change that, even if it means locking myself in my office and putting earplugs in. If I cannot find anything to write about, I'll do a bit of free writing to try and generate ideas to write about. I'm also going to practice a bit of positive meditation to try and drive the dark cloud that's haunted my days and nights since last spring away. I also thought about ordering a solar panel to put a little sunshine in my office, but in reading up on them, I discovered they don't work that way. One would think a solar panel would produce sunlight and heat. You know, a portable source of sunshine. However, it seems the term is misleading; the panel isn't solar at all. It seems they don't produce solar energy, but in fact require sunlight to work. |
| Some days are more challenging than others, as you all are very aware of. For me, this has intensified with my diagnosis of cancer, treatment, and recovery rates. Knowing there's only a 35% probability that I can beat this creates a dark shadow that is never too far away. But, I try and focus on being one of those 35 out of a hundred, I do my best to chase the dark clouds away through positive thinking and all the blessings in life. But still, some days are more challenging. For example, I haven't seen the sunshine in a week now, and that in itself is depressing. Also, the days are short, with less than nine hours of sunshine a day this time of year. I do my best to counter the darkness, but it's depressing in itself. I was also friends with all four neighbors who live around me. Cliff lived on the north side but moved over a year ago. His health was failing, and it was too much for him and his wife to keep their place up. He moved into an apartment closer to his children, who could help out. Another friend who lived just south of me also moved a couple of hours away because of problems he had with our new landlord; he was the source of the problem, and he could be difficult at times, but he was still a friend. The other neighbor to the south of me (it's two apartments) died earlier this month. I watched them carry him out in a body bag. To the west was another friend who moved after Christmas. He, like me, was introverted and kept to himself most of the time, but we talked at least once a week. He moved down to the Twin Cities to live with his son. Being an introvert and somewhat new to this area, we moved here in 2020 during the pandemic, I don't have many friends. I was a bit surprised by how quickly Steve and I became friends, and in helping Brian out, we also developed a friendship. Cliff was friendly, and we talked often, while Randy kind of did his own thing most of the time. But when I'd sit out with the dogs, he'd come over and visit. He worked part-time at Amor Pork and would bring over a pack of bacon or smoked pork chops. He got them for free when they were close to expiring. He's the one who got us a great deal on a whole pork. Other than these four people, my wife, and our dogs, I don't really have any other friends, and in just a few months, I lost four of them. Sure, we keep in touch over the phone, but it's not the same as visiting and having coffee, or going out fishing, or working on projects together. Today I had a video conference with some people from palliative care who are supposed to be making things easier for me as I recover from chemo and try to get on with my life. Unfortunately, the person I was talking to didn't seem to listen to what I was asking or talking to her about. Instead, she continued to focus on the probability of my cancer returning and how I want to spend my last days, who to care for me, if I want to die at home or in a care facility, etc. After an hour of listening to her and the gloom and doom of dying from cancer, I'm having a difficult time clearing that dark cloud away, and it's not helping that my wife's at work and I don't have anyone to talk to until she gets home. For now, I'll talk to Max. He's always good about talking back to me, even if I don't understand Husky. Bellah is right beside me and trying to get me to throw a toy for her every chance she gets; she doesn't understand that throwing her toy makes her happy, not me, but that's an Australian Shepard's reasoning. For now, I'm thinking about dinner and hopefully can get the thoughts running through my head quieted down. |
| We had another nice day (nice by January standards in northern Minnesota, anyway). It was almost thawing out, but gloomy; a light fog held fast through the day. That's one of my biggest gripes about living this far north: the days are too damn short, although we are up to seven hours and forty-three minutes of daylight now, and there are too many overcast days. And, when the sun does shine, it's usually very cold. I can hardly wait for the day when nuclear fusion is available to the common person. A small fusion device to provide power to the home, and my very own little sun to sit under during the winter. Anyway, I was saying it was a nice day today, so we decided to go into town and do a bit of grocery shopping. The idea was to leave the dogs at home, but as soon as they heard us discussing this plan, they understood and made known to us that they wanted to go with us. Since it was so nice out, we gave in and brought them along. This also provided us with an opportunity to bring them over to Sunnybrook Park and let them run and play for a while. I had just worn a light jacket with a sweatshirt under it, a light pair of gloves, and my stocking hat. I also wore a pair of work boots instead of my snowpacks. By the time we finished shopping and got to the park, the wind had picked up, and a light freezing drizzle was falling. I froze what little butt I have left off. Seriously, I'm lucky I had bib overalls on, or I would have lost my pants since I no longer had any ass (or hips) to hold regular pants up. I know better, living here most of my life; never trust the weather. This is not the first time I've been caught outdoors in the winter without proper clothing, but I was younger and ignorant back then and learned from my mistake. Yes, even though I wasn't dressed for the change in today's weather, I do keep a winter survival kit in my vehicle, complete with extra clothing, blankets, hand warmers, emergency food, and water. The forty-five-minute drive home ended up taking an hour and twenty minutes because of the icy roads, but that's winter in Minnesota. |
| I was just over at "What the Fork?" and posted a complaint about blockage and my desire to be free of it. I'm referring to a mental block when it comes to writing. For me, writing is a means of escape from life's difficulties, a way to work out problems, and a means of sharing with others. It's also how I reset and recharge. Sure, I write in my blog, but it's factual, not fiction. I need to lose myself in my own imagination, but it seems I've closed that door, locked it, and now I can't find the forking key! I think part of the problem stems from not reading. I've tried, but it seems the blockage also prevents me from getting lost in a good book. Hell, I can't even seem to find a good book to read. I've subscribed to Kindle Unlimited so I can find and read a lot of stories, hoping that by reading some good fiction, it will grease my cognitive gears and maybe some good fiction will start pouring out again. I enjoyed the phrase in Batman (1989) by the Joker, "This town needs an enema!" In my case, I would need to change it: "My brain needs an enema." |
| I changed my photo to an old one. It's my Husky, Max, and my wife's Australian Shepard, Bellah, when they were still puppies. They are snuggled up by the patio door, where they still enjoy lying and looking out, always on the lookout for squirrels. The photo above was taken years ago, 2008, I think. We lived in a small town in eastern South Dakota. Hazel was about four blocks from east to west and three blocks from north to south. We lived on the east side of town, the very first (or last) house. One morning, I woke to a heavy fog and took the picture that graces my blog. The photo of the dogs reminds me how fast time passes and to appreciate each day. The photo of the sunrise behind the railroad tracks in the fog reminds me to focus on the here and now: "We never know what lies ahead." I hope the new year is good for everyone. |
| I'm a little behind but doing pretty well after a recent illness. I stayed home for Christmas instead of attending a family gathering at my sister-in-law's. Why? Because I didn't want to catch any bugs from anyone; with a weakened immune system, I'm more susceptible to catching illnesses. Who would have thought that I would catch one of those nasty bugs from the food that was sent home for me to enjoy? My wife, knowing I have a cat allergy, showered and changed clothes as soon as she got home. She was also concerned because a couple of people who attended the get-together were still recovering from illnesses. (I don't understand why anyone who is ill would attend and risk spreading their illness, but some people don't seem to care.) But, with my wife's precautions, I did not react to the cat dander she likely brought home, and neither of us contracted any of the illnesses she was exposed to. What we didn't know was that some of the food sent home would expose me to food poisoning! Nobody else got sick, but the leftovers sent home for me did sit out after dinner instead of being refrigerated right away. No matter what the cause was, I enjoyed the food, but by that evening, I was feeling sick. Mostly, I was suffering from abdominal cramps and pain, something I endure quite often as an after-effect of chemo. Therefore, I didn't give it much thought. But by the following day, I couldn't eat anything. The thought of eating made me feel nauseated, and even trying to drink water resulted in it coming back up. I did use the anti-nausea medication I have, but it didn't do any good. I was also losing a lot of fluid through diarrhea. My wife had to work the day after Christmas, so she didn't get home until after eleven that evening. She was concerned about my well-being and called the hospital. If my condition didn't improve by the next morning, she was to bring me to the emergency department. By the next morning, I had slept very little and was sicker than hell; she helped me to the car and took me to the hospital. The first diagnosis was severe dehydration, so they plugged me into a bag of saline water while they ran more tests. While I was being rehydrated, I started suffering from dry heaves; I was throwing up, but there wasn't anything to come up, I was also feverish, weak, and suffering a lot of abdominal pain. They injected a few medications through the IV. It stopped the dry heaving, and I think lowered my fever, but I don't remember much after the initial diagnosis; I passed out. I woke later that afternoon in a hospital room. I was wired to an EKG monitor as a result of going into Afib and having some breathing problems. I had my port accessed, and a couple of bags hung from the IV tree into the pumps that dispensed their contents into my port. The doctor came in after an hour, but my wife had already told me that I had some type of food poisoning and was severely dehydrated on top of that. The doctor further explained that my weakened condition from chemo and my lowered immune response had made things much worse. He insisted on my staying in the hospital until my blood tests came back normal and I had more fluids to counter my being so dehydrated. In the end, I spent three days in the hospital as they treated me for the toxins in my blood, rehydrated me, and fed me nutrients and lipids through an IV. I was only able to have clear liquids for the first twenty-four hours I was in the hospital, then I was moved up to soft foods until I was discharged on December 30th. Even though I was told, "No alcohol!" I did have a couple of brandies with water for New Year's Eve. I've also been enjoying solid food. I firmly believe it was one last attempt of 2025 to do me in before it died and the New Year arrived. |
|
Merry Christmas Yes, I say Merry Christmas, and I hope it doesn't offend anyone. It shouldn't, even if you do not celebrate the day, it's still named Christmas. My calendar has many non-Christian holidays listed throughout the year, and none of them are offensive to me; I don't celebrate them. But if anyone wishes me a happy or joyful holiday, no matter what the day is, I thank them for their kind thoughts.To All! So, for those who celebrate Christmas, I wish you a very wonderful Christmas. For those who do not celebrate Christmas, I still wish you a very wonderful day. And, if you do feel offended, then please accept my apology, and happy holidays to you and your families. |
| My wife and I had a morning filled with a lot of information. Questions were answered, and many options to improve my quality of life were discussed. Within a week or so, I should be getting some different medications that sound promising. It amazes me how much more the VA is doing compared to my oncologist and the cancer center I've been treated at. Although very helpful, the meeting was lengthy, involving a social service provider, the doctor's nurse, and finally the doctor herself. It took us into early afternoon, and with so much information, I'm looking forward to receiving a lot of it in the mail in the upcoming week. Once we finished the online meetings, we had some leftovers for lunch and then headed once again to Glendalough State Park to do a short hike and to let the dogs run and frolic. It was another nice day, above freezing and just a mild breeze. Even so, the cold still gets to me, but hopefully that sensitivity to cold will soon be a thing of the past. Tonight we will have our Christmas dinner, nothing fancy, but we did splurge on a duck as the main course, something that had vanished from the store shelves with the onslaught of Covid and just recently returned to the meat cooler. Tonight we will open one gift from each other, the rest tomorrow morning after we get up and get some coffee going. After, I'll spend the day at home, but my wife will go to her relatives for a family dinner. I was thinking about going as well, but there are going to be a lot of people there, many of them with kids, and I don't want to risk contracting anything from them with my weakened immune system. Also, the relative hosting the dinner has quite a few cats. I love cats, but I'm allergic to them, and again, with a weakened immune system, it's best to stay away. And yet another reason to stay home, they only have one bathroom, and as of yet, I have not fully recovered from the digestive issues of chemo and need to have access to a bathroom at all times, as I never know when or how bad nature will call. I don't feel bad about missing. I'm going to enjoy some quiet time with our dogs and with anyone else who logs in here. Being an introvert, busy family gatherings tend to be trying, and I often find or manufacture good reasons to exit, stage left. A final thought I want to share is this: We really do need to stop killing moles for their mole-asses! |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
Puzzle Hub
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
