Seriously, this afternoon — along about 3:00 p.m. — is SO mellow, so soft, so clean, and SO beautiful that even the plague of little maladies fails to make one miserable. Just…incredibly…lovely!
Maladies? Ohhh…just a few…
Peripheral neuropathy: frantic buzzing and burning in the hands, soles of the feet, and lips. Hurts. Makes you crazy.
Fingernails: lifting from the nail beds. No indication of why, or of what one can do about it.
Awful sore and itchy spot on the tail end. Dunno what to do about it. Rubbing in an analgesic does…hmmm…essentially nothing.
As of this morning, the hip pain was gone. But now it’s back! No idea why.
Dared to try to sit out on the back porch to take in this gorgeous afternoon.
B-a-a-d idea!
Place is swarming with mosquitos. Forthwith, had to dart back inside. Slam the screen door. Slam the kitchen door. RUN AWAY!!!
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Thinking about my father: the jobs he had, how hard he worked to support me and my mother.
He was a tanker captain and, when he worked a shore job, a harbor pilot.
Maneuvering oil tankers across the ocean paid him well. But the job took him away from home for weeks on end. And…y’know…weirdly, the man was basically a homebody. A harbor pilot’s job is dangerous and demanding…he must have been exhausted most of the time during the ten years he did that in Saudi Arabia.
When he finally retired to Sun City, he and my mother had…ohhh…about 18 months together until the cancer sticks she’d smoked in gay, stinking abandon since she was 16 years old ganged up on her and killed her. She died horribly of tobacco-induced cancer shortly after they settled into their Dream Home in the suburbs of Phoenix.
They’re both gone now. The only relative I have left is my excellent son. And…heh…that does put some strain on him, the poor man! 😀
Seriously: he works ferociously for the insurance company that employs him. I would go back to teaching freshman comp if I had to work that hard!!! It doesn’t leave him much time or energy for riding herd on an ailing old bat. So…well…I try to keep from belly-aching too much. But he does know I’m ailing…and that the indications of that ailing do NOT bode well.
Oh, well. The sooner I croak over, the sooner I stop hurting. Right? 😀