In a return to the morning coffee posts where I stagger down to the studio while trying not to slop coffee on the carpet, plop down in my new $59 “Executive Chair” and try to write something coherent. Spell checking, and maybe some rough editing is allowed, but these are not orations nor dissertations. Just the observations of an old man facing his doom. The challenge is to limit them to 500 words, but ideally I will wrap them up around 250 words, más o menos.
As fate would have it, my brother and niece have come to stay with us. I presume permanently, but who knows? They visited earlier, and while here the Covid
madness stupidity hysteria settled in and even auto travel was proscribed. While they were here, they concluded this would be an ideal place to live, and after a brief return to their home in Colorado after everyone was too exhausted from all the hyperventilating to care, they made the move.
My brother then had a cardiac episode and went through bypass surgery and is now recovering from that. The niece went to work nearby in Temple, a twelve-mile commute from the house and near where my brother is going through cardiac rehab. Kismet again.
But for me, little changed. I mow when I can, take lots of naps muse on arcane religious texts and torment the budgie.
And blather on like people hang on my every word.