tuesday

It's dry enough to let the cats out, but we are back to where we were last Thursday, that is, I need to mow the back first, except, unlike last week, the sky is not overcast. The sun is shining down hot, and I won't be mowing until about seven. So, the cats are going to have to wait. Besides, it feels horrible out there, not that that would keep the cats in the house if the choice were theirs. As for the front yard, I think that will have to wait until after Grocery Day ... ... I have a little over 13,000 journal entries at my show blog on LiveJournal. I have been there close to 13 years, which would make for about a thousand a year, which on average means a little over three entries a day. However, it should be remembered that we brought down a good number of entries from the Old Journal and Blurty, but I doubt those entries tally over a thousand. Daimon says, "I am at a loss for the significance of any of this." LOL Me too. I guess I was just reflecting on how much material is there with this sense of how 'nothing' it is. As a practical matter, it has been a quiet day, and I thought it might be worth mentioning ... ... So quiet, no phones ringing all day. We're having trouble with the phones, again, or I ought to say that Pop is have trouble with the phones, because I love this myself. I'm not oblivious to Pop's pain, though. He lives on phone calls from Victor, Lorie, Kay, and Jack. As I have observed before, calls from them are to him what e-mail notifications from my blogging pals were to me in my golden age online - so many sunbursts of warmth and friendship, and even flirtations ... ... As I was approaching the mower, getting ready to toss the last bag of grass clippings into the green organics bin, I muttered, "I'm done: the cats can play." Then when I stepped in the house, Coco was lying down on the kitchen table looking up at me expectantly. I said, "Do you want to go outside? I don't see why not." ... ... Pi says, "Survey question: What is something you have given a lot of thought to lately?" Besides the usual 'How did I get to this abysmal position in life?' Pi says, "Entirely your choice." Lately, I have been worrying about my eyes, my vision. It definitely seems like it has fallen off another notch. Most importantly, I still read my books easily enough, but I do that with a magnifying glass. I mean, if I ever reach the point where it becomes a real struggle to read my books, even with a magnifying glass, well, then I am really fucked. Daimon says, "That explains why you have been rubbing your eyes so much and stretching them, like you are going to squirt an eye-dropper on them." Yeah, at the risk of sounding hypochondriacal and melodramatic, I do wonder if this is how it ends, with the light in my eyes fading out. But I am not expecting my eyes to get that bad that soon. I think we have years before that happens. I still believe the greater threat to my life probably rests on Pop's health more than anything else. When I think about Pop's health and old age, I don't tend to think in terms of years.