J likes to drive around in her car, what my fellow male high school classmates used to do when were 16 or 17. Only thing is that J is 65.

We drove over to the other side of the river. The James River is an increasingly meaningless line of demarcation in Richmond. The wealth, and the poverty, are distributed fairly evenly. We drove through a neighbourhood that thirty or forty years ago was affluent. Now there are store vacancies and store closures. A mile east toward the older parts of the city, homes seem a little better kept, and renovated. Gentrification is perhaps at work, but the houses aren’t that much older. The occupancies on the main thoroughfares always seem to include a dialysis center, sometimes where a gas station used to be. Dialysis center, 7-Eleven, Starbucks. CVS, Walgreen’s (Duane Reed) are almost guaranteed to be on Any Street USA.

I get my heavy dose of culture shock from the drive around. Things are pretty diverse. We have trees, relative quiet, nice neighbours and rarely any gunfire, in my little corner of the metropolitan area. It is a blessing. That J likes to cruise around and I don’t is one of our differences. I’m glad she took me on the trip today. Kind of gave context to the term diversity

I got a text from my stepmother’s daughter-in-law, stating my strpmother is in the ER, waiting to be admitted. It was 3:00 AM. Finally she was put in a room at about 2:00 PM this afternoon. The staffing at hospitals has been decimated by consequences of no non-essential admissions during the pandemic.

She has some pulmonary effusion, related to congestive heart failure. She is 94, almost 95. We’re worried. She is a tough resilient woman, but she is getting increasingly frail, with two falls in recent weeks.

The COVID-19 precautions at the hospital make visits difficult.

We are hopeful she will make it through this episode.

Superficial trainspotter that I am, when I see that AMTRAK #98, The Silver Meteor, originating in Miami, is running on time, I begin to wonder “why“?

Are there not enough passengers? Does no one want to go to New York? Have there been no equipment failures, breakdowns, or malfunctions?

Maybe I am just a cynic. Because at 4:53 AM this Thursday morning, I hold out little hope of a normally functioning world. Call it Covid-19 Fatigue. We will walk around masked, surviving one step above martial law, naively trusting politicians and physicians, hoping this nightmare will end some day.

But most of us project the inner turmoil and drama within our own psyche into the exterior world around us. Or so I’ve heard.

Maybe if I had a good night’s sleep, or my cock sucked, or both, I would feel differently.

Later today, J and I will drive to Fredericksburg, where she will check on some products in a supermarket, This is her second job. She wants me to ride along. In case she is too tired to drive, I can take over.

I’m sleepy again.

27 May 2001 was the day J and I were married. We celebrated nineteen years today.

But first I had an appointment with the podiatrist who checked out my nasty looking toe. There was fungus. He prescribed a fungicide told me there was no need to remove the toenail. The dried blood present is not a problem, just

ugly.

I was groggy,sleep-deprived, longing for sleep. After a nap, I made a reservation at our location of Maggiano’s Little Italy. I had cod with a piccata ssuce of lemon dill and capers. J had ravioli and we shared cheesecake for dessert.

She is at work now. I am awake. I miss her and want her home with me. She can take her full Social Security in five months.

Do not read mushy romance stories about couples in love, if your partner never expresses any physical and sexual interest in you. Stick with the World War Two crap.

As an avid exerciser, I set a goal to work out five days out of every seven, 20 /28 days.

I have a minor issue with a toenail on the great toe of my right foot. Could be fungus. I have thickening and some dried blood in the nail and nail bed. Not pretty. In fact, it’s down right nasty looking.

I scheduled an appointment with a podiatrist for tomorrow, and ten days ago, I realized I would have to (power) walk every day from 17 May to 26 May if I wanted to reach my 20 for 28 target. Usually I like a rest, but the podiatrist might tell me to lay off for awhile if he has to remove and treat the toenail.

Ten workouts in ten days is the challenge I gave myself. I could have made up an excuse to skip a day. It would not make that much difference in the general training schedule, but skipping a day would be a challenge to my commitment.

I finished the whole ten workouts. It was a beautiful day for walking cloudy, breezy with a comfortable temperature, 70° F(21°C).

The ornithological highlight was an Eastern bluebird, with nary a vulture in sight. There were numerous other walkers and bicyclists out today. All in all, a great day

In the long overview, regular walking has meant that my arthritic hip has been far less painful than it has been in years. Walking helps keep the joint lubricated with synovial fluid. Walk. Beats a hip replacement any day. Just remember this, especially if you are under fifty.

Lube. It’s everywhere I need it to be.

Right now, I am watching a black and white travel film of the Algarve region of Portugal from 1938. Kinda quaint. Makes me want to travel through distance and time.

This is a day to do nothing. J is sleeping, has been since about 4:00 AM. J sleeping is par for the course. What can I say?

I had a fitful, unsettled night til I fell asleep about 5:00 AM. I woke up about noon, did my power walk around 1:00 PM. A good walk it was too. Rather than disturbing vultures consuming carrion, today’s wildlife star was a rabbit. I got close enough to the cottontail to notice his spotted coat that would blend perfectly in a wooded environment.

I did some sitting on the porch. Fun. My shower was pleasant. I am suitably lethargic.

This is all for now.

First of all, seven months til Christmas. I guess Hallmark Channel will start the Christmas movies soon. 

It was a strange day after our brunch. I did my walk. I saw a couple of vultures picking over some road kill. Not the kind of bird watching I get stoked about. 

I came home, showered. We picked up some fruit and cookies for J’s lunch. Right mow, at 430 AM, I am awake and kind of frazzled, as if I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in several…..years.

J worked a five hour shift and is home, too wired up to sleep just yet. We avoid having sex. No wonder I haven’t slept well in years.

It is one of those Sundays I fancy in my dreams. Brunch is ready for whenever J decides to get out of bed, shower and join the ranks of the conscious.

The day is quiet as only a day where there is no place for most people to go can be. The birds are chirping and singing. A chipmunk showed up a while back.

I have my flag out for Decoration Day. Maybe I will find that eponymous Charles Ives piece and listen to it.

For all of you in the British Commonwealth, Decoration Day, now called Memorial Day, corresponds roughly to Remembrance Day, November 11. We honour our (ever growing number of) War Dead. We use November 11 to honour all of our veterans.

The custom of putting flowers on the graves of the war dead, “Decoration”, began after the Civil War. Until about fifty years ago, the day celebrated was May 30th. It became a “Monday Holiday” so people could have a long weekend.

One of the neighbourhood white squirrels obligingly posed for a picture the other day. I’m posting it here

And here flies the National Ensign.

Life is good.

I’m still up, mesmerized by a stream of photos on YouTube. I need to go back to sleep. Why am I still up? Maybe I’m exhausted. The pictures evoke nostalgia and Weltschmerz.

Who loves me?