Saturday, October 24, 2026

     The truck man comes by for a visit.  He no longer has his antique truck, now he drives a new low end four door Ford truck.  His face is a bit swollen.  He is recovering from cataract surgery. I am lethargic, waking up from my afternoon nap. And still, we talk and laugh. We are in our eighties and still alive. And we tell stories about the antics of our young adult grandchildren.

     Yes I do think about death although I don’t feel like I am dying soon. I’ve learned the body knows how to die, just as the body knows how to fall asleep. It is not a performance issue. Death pops us among my friends to remind me dying is still a possibility.

     Bright warm sun this morning in the kitchen as I put together my coffee and cereal. My bedroom, where I eat my breakfast, is at least 20 degrees cooler. Soon, my room will be warm and the kitchen cool. No dogs barking or birds chirping.  However, the sounds of airplanes come through the open window.

     We watch episodes of YOUTH and of SMALL PROPHETS. Now SMALL PROPHETS is weird and wonderful.  It is rated 100 % critics score on Rotten Tomatoes. I don’t think I have ever seen a show with 100% score. I am captivated with the nonfiction REGIME CHANGE, a close look at how the Trump world actually works. They all should go to prison. I wonder what will change with the upcoming election. SIGH.

 

Friday, October 23, 2026

     When I am 18 before going to college, my father hires me to be his assistant in leading a large group of pilgrims to visit Majorca, Spain and various European cities. I am mostly responsible for not losing people or luggage during the 6 week trip. We have two buses and use several different hotels each night. I tie ribbons on luggage so they got to the right hotels and I kept track of stragglers. I find bathrooms for the travelers and keep them boarding the right buses. Maybe he realizes my special skill is getting things done. We actually lose one person who slips away on a drinking binge. We don’t lose any luggage.

     After several hours of attempts to sleep I turn on the lights and sit up in my blue recliner. I can’t force myself to fall asleep. So I check my computer apps, plat computer solitaire, and then read a current New Yorker until my body decides sleep might be an option.

     Most of the Thursday is cloudy and cool until the rain starts. I never go outside, always a mistake. Walking outside is therapeutic for me. Cloudy cold morning today.  Seagulls squawking in the distance.

     In the evening, I am home alone. I watch an episode of YOUTH, looks promising and then another episode of the older series, MAJOR CRIMES. I continue to read EXIT PARTY, a very complicated novel. I get confused with the various names of the characters. My roommate focuses on the upcoming local election. I watch the national predictions on TV. At this point all news is just filler material as we hold our breath for the real results of the election. The incompetent president keeps up with his lies.

 

 Thursday, October 22, 2026

     My 80 year old father talks to four of us siblings during a birthday visit many years ago. He says he is proud of us. You each have your own special talents. The youngest is a medical scientist, the next a historian scholar, and the third an artist.   What about me I ask. Well, you are the practical one who gets things done. For years I ponder that unsatisfactory label.  I want to be a distinguished expert like my siblings.

     All day we waited for the rain that never comes.  Clouds, small gusts of wind. Late in the afternoon I turn on the heater. I am tired of being cold. The oak trees look desperate for rain.

     My roommate is busy all day out of the house, and gives out more baskets of tomatoes to friends. I hang out at home, doing chores, reading and taking a nap.

     In the evening, I search through different TV lists and hit upon a documentary about the comedian, Marc Moran, ARE WE GOOD. We watch the whole show, laugh some, mostly interesting. I am now reading Emily St. John Mandel’s new novel, EXIT PARTY. I love her work. All the news seems to be focused on predicting who is going to win the election.  Meanwhile the wars continue and inflation rises. The world is falling apart.