Saturday

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final approach

The wrath of Mother Nature never ceases to amaze me as she once again is getting ready to show her full might in the wee hours of the morning, arousing Ashley Marie and putting her on full attention as she watches me with one eye open, ears listening to the howling of the wind that a half an hour ago was all quiet and birds were heard chirping in cadence with one another.

And although never have I been a fan of storms of any kind, a learned behavior since childhood when we often were awakened to go to the basement and sleep in the closet under the stairwell at the order of my mother, I find comfort in knowing that the power exists as it reaffirms my beliefs in something bigger, greater than me as such might wreaks of perfection, something a mortal man could never create nor even duplicate precisely in a laboratory as he has tried only to fail time and time again.

The thunder begins to rumble as the squall line approaches from the West, a rolling thunder that gets lounder as the sound of rain starts to ping upon the rooftop, trees swaying and bowing gracefully from side to side, making their own form of a Nike swoosh.

I lay my head down and await as the intensity will pick up soon and knowing I am in the comfort of a home, be that it's someone elses no longer matters as it's a safety net of sorts that will protect me and allow me to remember that as my trials and tribulations get larger and tasks harder to complete, the force of energy that encompasses me and all other sentient beings provides comfort...
another piece of hail dropping from above,
a symbol of what might be out there, somewhere but not nowhere as I try to shut my eyes and get some much needed and required rest.
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Sunday

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words that sting

While typing my last post I received a text that made no sense only to find out the sender intended me to be someone else, ending it all with,
'have an enjoyable existence.'

Not only did his phrase stun me, it stung me as I have heard from him less and less as time has worn on, promising to stay in touch but failing to on both our ends, having little in common except the enjoyment of one of my most prized possessions I gifted him prior to leaving Florida as he now enjoys it, I presume, in Texas where he meandered too, hopefully doing well as I would wish him no less, often wondering what he is doing and how he is doing, not necessarily in that order but never to send and end a conversation, when he realized his gaff, in a tone that screams finality,

the end.
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the body art

When I left the Craw Fish boil last Saturday, after all the festivities had winded down and the most gracious hosts' home looked semi back to normal, I awoke with two blisters on my right hand. As the week progressed I watched as they grew in size and changed in color from a clear to a deep burgundy red. Thursday, after the growing continued and the coloring darkened even more, I took it upon myself to peddle to Urgent Care and have a doctor look at them for fear that infection had set in, knowing that plight at this stage of my life would be less than pleasant, having just been on two (2) different rounds of antibiotics for an Upper Respiratory something that showed me many shades of green from my throat and my nose, often at the same time...

The doctor diagnosed me with second degree burns and before her diagnosis, she asked me what had happened and to the best of my recollection, I was scalded by the top of a pot accidentally although I do not specifically recall that having happened. I do know I did hold the lid to the cooler open at one point when boiled Craw Fish were being poured in and I had to turn away due to the steaming of my shades and the heat on my face on an anything but sunny day...a downpour, literally, and an F1 Tornado not too far from the boil itself, nothing to dampen the fun had by all however.

After she lanced the wounds and was cutting off the dead skin surrounding them, she again told me they were typical of what they classify as second degree burns, sometimes caused by the mere steam of scalding or boiling water. Immediately my memory went into overload and as I watched her I thought of the conversation I had just had with Dr. V. the previous Wednesday when I showed him how prominent my veins were as he told me, in all truthfulness, it was another sign of the liver malfunctioning even further as veracious veins are now in my hands, arms and legs, well defined and tender to the touch. He went on to tell and show me how my skin is thinning, another sign of my decline as if looking in the mirror, the lethargy that took root within and stepping on the scale have not been enough since Fall and through the Winter...

So, the lid theory made sense but her suggestion of steam made more sense when I thought, long and hard, of the words uttered so professionally but with concern by Dr. V. as he assured me again he was on my journey until I crossed over unto another plain.

Slowly as expected, the body art is healing, a small sign something is fighting within to work to correct the mess I internally have become, my body working overtime to correct that which once was unimaginable and the mere thought laughable, unthinkable and well, insane to some degree...
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