This Blogging Thing

So, I took that opening photo Friday near sunset. I was getting something out of the fridge when I noticed the light shining through those vases The Missus Herself has stowed up there. To my eye at the time (and in my memory) the light had a more reddish tinge to it. But the camera in my cell phone captured it as you see it. I found it most pleasing in real life, and it ain't that bad reproduced electronically.

It's been an odd week. Most of you may remember that I was feeling rather out of sorts the week before, I even took a day away from work (a Thursday) in the hopes of recovering from a rather vicious cold. Well, I also felt bad for the lads and lasses in the lab at work, we were all a bit concerned that I'd infect the lot of 'em. One of the lads did develop a runny nose but as he himself said, he could have picked that up from his wife.

Still and all, I felt like crap last weekend. Though by the time Monday rolled around, I was feeling much better, thank you very much. Then had a bout of that wretched insomnia which has plagued me on and off for years.

Seems that once the gears and wheels in my head get to spinning, I have trouble shutting them down. It's not a too much caffeine thing, it's not a too much to drink thing (non-alcoholic mind you) which has the result of getting up to commune with nature periodically, that's more of an age thing. I swear that I could have a sip of water at noon, and naught else all day, and still need to get up and "water the flowers" every couple of hours. And dinna be concerned about my prostate, my doc says I'm fine and all the tests confirm that.

But I confess to having a pretty weak bladder, if I may be so bold. On a day long tour of the Ardennes in December of 1998, my two fellow sergeants did remark on my need to "mark my territory" nearly every hour on the hour. In truth though, when nature calls, one cannot but answer.

But the insomnia thing comes and goes. When my mind starts trying to puzzle something out, there's no stopping it. Usually though, my subconscious will be churning through a problem and leave my conscious mind out of it. But from time to time both brain cells deem it necessary to work in concert on something.

And it keeps me awake, or, and this is far worse, I wake up at some absurd hour and can't go back to sleep. Tuesday night was such a night. Woke up at 0230, 0330, finally at 0430 I said the heck with it, got up and went to work before 0700. Usually I get there at half past that hour.

When it happened again on Wednesday night, even the guards at work were a bit surprised to see me twice in one week at such an uncharacteristically early hour for Your Humble Scribe.

Succumbing to the need for sleep Thursday night, I took something for my lingering head cold, and slept like a log. (The Missus Herself said it sounded like someone was sawing on that log, all bloody night. Yes, I snore, probably because I could stand to lose a pound, or twenty. But hey, I'll work on that. Someday.)

The picture above was the scene out the kitchen door on Thursday night. The Missus Herself had gone to put the trash out when she cried out that I should, "come see this!" Which I did. While it seems a bit early for the white stuff in Little Rhody, it isn't that unusual, so the inhabitants assure me. I've been here nineteen years and still feel like an outsider at times. I guess my 24 years in the military tore up my need to have roots in one spot. I have no idea where I'm "from." Vermont has changed so much since I left that I don't recognize it anymore. I guess I'm just a "child of the regiment." So to speak.

The light pole, its shadow, and the corkscrew tree combine to confuse my eye every single time I look at this picture, taken shortly after the preceding one. This one is out the front door, which we had open and which excited the feline staff. Until they felt the cold air blowing in, weather not fit for man nor beast I tell ya!

By Friday afternoon most of the snow was gone, except where it had been plowed into big piles at the local shopping emporiums.

Talked to the DIL on Saturday, while the fires in California are miles from where she and my son and grandkids live, the smoke in the air make it seem as if the fires were very close by. The air quality has been so bad that my grandson's school has recess indoors. It's too unhealthy to breathe that crap for very long.

Way to go, dumbass California government and their idiot "environmentalists." When humans mess with things they don't understand, they make it worse. Settled science, I'm sure. A pox on their houses.

Oh yeah, the post title, what's up with that you may ask? Well, truth be told, I was thinking of going sinker for a week, maybe more. But, whenever I think of doing that, the Muse hangs out and insists on giving me good ideas for things to write about. But this is a holiday week coming up, we'll be busy, as I'm sure most of you will be.

I might write, I might not. I haven't really decided yet. As with most things, I'll just play it by ear. Also, I'm going out of town, to the land of no Internet, the land that time forgot, Yes, my Mom's house. So that will keep the posts to a minimum

But we shall see, y'all have been wicked awesome in the comments lately and I enjoy that. There are days I want to chuck it, but I'm not ready to hang up my electric quill just yet. I have more stories to tell and more history to cover.

But ya know, that book ain't gonna write itself and if I'm digitally scribbling here, it takes time away from other things. Sigh, somehow, I'll strike a balance.

Until then, I soldier on.