The Silence

I sincerely apologize for my silence. I've spent the last year and two months proving my existence. This long and aggravating fight came to an end late this afternoon. Needless to say I hate the Patriot Act. 

It's a long story and my head hurts far too much to bore you with the details. Maybe later.

Tomorrow I shall open another gate and walk a strange path.

I'll keep you posted.

Stephen

Alone

It's so quiet in my house. The only sound is the whirl of the ceiling fan and the tick of my tide clock as it counts down the hours to the next high tide. I am alone.

It isn't bad, being alone. Many hate it. They can't deal with solitude. Most feel they must fill the lonely hours with activity as a means to occupy the empty space of lost companionship. I deal with my status of temporary bachelorhood as an opportunity. It gives me a reason and purpose to think, listen, and tackle small projects otherwise taken with partnership of husband and wife.

This blogpost is a fine example.  I'm been slack of late in the stewardship of my blog and blog friends. I have a valid excuse yet will not use it as such and must sincerely apologize for my lack of posting and failure to comment on your blogs in kind.

My lovely wife and companion has packed and traveled  north into the great state of Georgia to visit her mother. After I preformed routine maintenance to her car, she gave me a kiss and was gone.

Yesterday, after work, I made a quick run to our local Publix and stocked my larder with various foods that required little prep but offered great satisfaction to one befitting my status. Chips and salsa, summer sausage, bread and milk, always, clam chowder. I also snatched a box of chicken wings as they were on sale at half price. I'm set for the weekend.

Now I have a full day of aloneness. I'll soon retreat to my garage and continue with my current restoration project. It'll kill the rest of the day. Then, after a good shower, I've a new novel to read, that is if I can convince my feeble altered mind to concentrate long enough to stay focused upon the words. If not, well, there is always Netflix as a last resort.

The birds are singing. Somewhere, far off, I also hear a leaf blower. The ceiling fan still whirls and pushes air, the tide clocks ticks, and I hear my little inner voice begging me to stand and work...guess I should give in and do as it tells me.

Stephen

Still Here

Sorry for the silence. I've been very busy and a bit under the weather. When the debate begins I expect to be in bed, hopefully, in a sound sleep.

I'll be back. Thank you for your kind patience.

Stephen

Quiet Morning

I've next to nothing to say this morning...it's quiet and I'm soaking in the peace of it. Sweet Wife has returned to work. This is the first time in about twelve days I've been alone. The day nurse arrives later this morning to change my bandages, poke and prod, and repack.

She still has a hard time understanding the shelves of books. She asked me why certain volumes were dressed in archival plastic. I explained the books in question are first editions. Blank stare. So I changed direction and told her they were special and the plastic gave the books protection.

"Protection from what? They're just books."

"The elements, people's dirty hands, dust."

Blink, blink. Cow eyes.

"Are 'da expensive?"

I pointed towards one, said, "That book only had a first printing of two thousand copies. Half went to libraries. The others were sold from the trunk of the author's vehicle. Half of those were destroyed by misuse. I only know of two on the market. I own one. That book is worth two grand."

"Sweet Jesus Christ Almighty, a book be worth 'dat much money?"

"Yes." I said. She shakes her head and mumbled, "I done heard it all now."

Me too.

I'm several chapters behind on The Union Creek Journal, and with all this silence, I'll have a chance to jump back into the adventure. You can find the story, here.

If conditions warrant, I might just sneak outside and pop some squirrels from my garage. My trigger finger is itchy.  

Later, it's time for another cup of coffee. Take care, my friends.

Stephen