“Everybody has a secret world inside of them. I mean everybody. All of the people in the whole world, I mean everybody — no matter how dull and boring they are outside. Inside them, they’ve all got unimaginable, magnificent, wonderful, stupid, amazing worlds... Not just one world. Hundreds of them. Thousands, maybe.”
— Neil Gaiman

Good morning, how are you? It’s a beautiful fall day outside. I suggest you get out and get some. Getting some could mean different things to different people; I’m just making the suggestions; you do with them as you will.

I had a fantastic day yesterday; my wife attended our daughter’s bridal shower, I took an hour to set up our apple T.V.; when you Air B and B your home, you must reset up your devices each time you return home. So between updates and lost passwords, I had a hell of a journey.

But alas, I got my chores done, showered, and headed to get a bite to eat; I watched the Notre Dame game before heading to Costco to get some items. Then I returned home, met my wife, and we took a nap. After that, our friend Cindy arrived to stay the night; we headed over to Jay and Angie’s and hung out with about 50 people for Jay’s 50th birthday celebration; I suspect there were about 20 pizzas to feed the masses.

We got home about 9:30, watched some UFC before going to bed, we did sleep in; it’s been a mentally taxing week; not all weeks are easy and breezy. We will be here through Wednesday and then head back to our mountain top chalet.

My son and his wife got the poke. I was going to head over there yesterday, but both felt like death warmed over; I thought it best to let them rest. I might try to connect with them again; they should feel better today; my experience with the magical poke was a lost day; maybe they will feel the same.

So what does one do on a beautiful Sunday in Indiana? At this point, I’m not sure; it’s early, we have the whole day ahead of us, we have some chores to do around here, but not like when we lived full time here. An outside firm maintains this house; we are merely guests in our own home.

My wife has drawn a line in the sand; she no longer wants me to listen to the news; it’s making you angry. I don’t know if mad is the correct term, maybe concerned or alarmed would be a better match for my current state of mind, but the good news is no more mean tweets.

There is a looming crisis in Washington about the debt ceiling; I hope they don’t cave, I hope they shut her down; as of now, the federal government is doing more harm than good. But I digress; let’s focus on the good news of the world.

I’ve got my second grandkid coming soon; after that, I’ll have our third, then fourth, if I’m guessing, I think we will have 8. That’s how many bunk beds we put in our mountain house; we will see how accurate my prediction is; the future is bright.

I miss my pup; it’s interesting how attached you get to a four-legged creature. But, of course, I miss our cats as well. On the next trip home, we will bring Parker Van Halen, but not our cats; they seem content to hang back in Colorado with food and water; they don’t need much.

In a week, we will celebrate our friend’s nuptials; we are hosting a wedding at our home that we will not attend, sorry Knight, commitments. But they will enjoy our space; we will see Dave and Anna off into their next chapter, that’s three weddings in the past month, love is in the air.

My wife just sat down and kissed me; more love, she asked what we might do today, and the answer is always “whatever the hell we want to do!” I’m sure I’ll give you a full report tomorrow, it will be interesting how we spend our time.

Ramblings, I tell you, daily ramblings from an aging white guy that is blessed beyond measure. I’m lucky, fortunate, and have the world by the tail, but at times the world seems to be swinging more than others, but I hold on; it’s what I was taught to do. I want to thank my parents for instilling work ethic into me as a young man, that and a foundation of faith; it helps when the world seems to be too much, I can always look at something bigger than myself.

Some days I give you chili, and other days I provide you with broth. Today is a broth day, not much here, just fodder for my future self or the person charged with charting my path over my life. I know of no other human that gives a day-by-day narrative of their life; this is a unique proposition for a human, not sure why I was picked, or maybe I’m not determined, and I am choosing to share my journey with no one.

I caught a note from a friend on my down day soup that said, “the fact that you share your world even when you have nothing interesting to say is a gift.” Truth, not every day is filled with treasure and wonder, some days I just live, and those are the days I appreciate more than others. The wonderous glory-filled days are lovely, but every once in a while, I like just to put up the mast and let the wind take me where the wind determines it best I go.

“Everybody has a secret world inside of them. I mean everybody. All of the people in the whole world, I mean everybody — no matter how dull and boring they are outside. Inside them, they’ve all got unimaginable, magnificent, wonderful, stupid, amazing worlds... Not just one world. Hundreds of them. Thousands, maybe.”
— Neil Gaiman

Word Soup

A Secret World, A Fantastical Day, Angry…