Saturday Night at Home

There’s George the cat stretching on the Istanbul camel hair rug. He enjoys the heat of the electric fireplace. Gilbert, the blind cockapoo has been playing fetch. Well, not just fetch. His own adaptation. I fetch it then he plays ‘seek’.  It takes a lot longer for the ball to return. I love his little wagging tail.  He gives me a break every once in awhile stopping to chow down on kibbles from his bowl.
I’ve just watched Interstellar. Second time round. Better this time I think.  I’m watching re runs more often older and enjoying them.  I’ve been reading Dan Brown’s “Origen” and very much enjoying that.  Since I first read Da Vinci Code before the movie I’ve read all of Dan Brown’s books. I’m glad for the new one. Like the Star Trek Discovery.  I’d pretty much settled into a rut of NCIS, Big Bang Theory, Hawaii 5.0 and Blue Bloods until that new Star Trek appeared. I look forward to Sunday night for each episode. The other TV just seems to be on when I’m eating or bored.
I swam yesterday. I’ve been walking Gilbert 2 sometimes 4 times a day. He comes a long with me most places but in addition we walk some.  The rest is work. Work seems to take more time during the week with the hour long commutes.
I”m grateful. I’ve been praying thankfully a lot but soul tired.  `The Fake News and News are tedious.  Some days I feel at ground zero for WW3.  The Communists and Fascists joined forces before the last war.  Now they seem to be doing the same.  Archaic legal political systems with cutting edge science.  I’d be happier if we were doing more to get to Mars. I’d hoped to visit in my life time.  Instead of ‘watching ‘ safe’ Survivor series we might instead be in the action of actual expansion and colonization.  The day will come.
I’m struggling with suicide and the microcosm macrocosm of life and death wishes.  Are they wishes or simply competing forces.  I do wonder about death and after life. The rise in aetheism, materialism’s and consumerism go against the spiritual and transcendent. I am an idea and love. This entity of self is what I know.  I feel contained and constrained in an artificial limition of self with the capacity to go so much beyond this sometimes prison.
I love watching the Camille Paulia and Christina Hoff Summers dialogue. There were a number of good presentations I came across that gave me hope.
I had thought to go out tonight to an event or a meeting. I could be with others but it’s been a fairly busy day, shopping, doing chores.  Tomorrow there’s church and we’re having a party for friends leaving. Laura is with her niece whose leaving too. I think of sailing a lot.  I long to face the Atlantic.  Then there’s this fifth wheel. I’ve the enorsement tests to do.  I barely did the phone calls and paper work this week, there was just so much of it. The toxic workplace is frightening. The new politics of ‘induced paranoia’.  We talk among ourselves about everyone being offended. The shock troops of the dying nation.  I worry about every nuance of speech, fear speaking, feel scripted, inauthentic.  I have been told that I am at work to do the least.  Here take this pill.  How are your bowels?  I worry I won’t be able to be minimalist.  I worry that will offend.  I’m utterly exhausted at the end of the day, watching my back, looking over my shoulder, seeking approval of the authorities, attempting desperately to not offend. I worry too that this is my future, people like I’m trying to be, caring for me.  It’s twisted but I don’t know what to do.  Carrying on.  Euthanasia on the horizon.
I thought what I did was ‘service’. I volunteered for the toughest assignments. Did the decades and some of education and more.  Did more education.  Did more service.  But to them it’s just a job.  I’ve taken life all too seriously.  I wonder at the metaphors that others live by.  These new aetheists, communists and activists.  They talk so much of power and so little of truth.  I spent my life trying to understand and healing. I did my best to do good.  I’ve danced with the devil over and over again and walked so many miles in others shoes. And it just comes down to they’ve got the guns, prisons, asylums and money and how alone I feel at times.
Then I turn to God and promises.  I really am blessed.  Grace is good to me.  God is Good. Life is good.  I am so thankful for my dog, for the cat, for this place with indoor plumbing, heat, and a refrigerator with food. I cooked a venison chilli with the deer I shot last year. I froze it all and took some out last night to microwave.  It was delicious.  What a wonder to eat a living creature I’ve shared with untouched by other hands, respected, blessed, touched, a mystical gift. Then add to that cans of tomato and beans and fresh celery , carrots, zucchini, garlic and onion.  I bought the vegetables from a little market near here where big trucks bring fresh produce daily.  I’ve been enjoying local apples too.  I left the propane stove on low simmer till it was tasty, a little under done so that the microwaving would finish the process.   I’m thankful to have the means to do this, the training, skills , the eperience.
I’ve met others with skills while I see so many addicts who have spent their lives in search of pleasure.  A false pleasure.  This time now brings me joy.  I’ve a cat rubbing against me.  He was asleep and now is awake. The dog is sleeping with a ball at his nose.
It’s been raining. I’m yawning and looking forward to my warm and comfortable bed.  The critters often join me initially but prefer to sleep on the floor once they’re comfortable I’m not leaving the bed.  These are idyllic times.  I hear Crosby Stills Nash and Young singing “our house’ in the distance.  Thank you.  I enjoyed seeing friends on face book, their activities, gatherings, interests and birthdays. I like the animal stories too.  The politics isn’t as vapid and loud.  This may be the lull before the storm.  But it’s just as likely things will muddle along as they do.
I’m thankful.  Thank you.