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The thoughts in head are many, and each thought I like to think is a cluster of neurons, sparking like steel on flint.

Trains. I am watching Ashland, then Fort Madison, then Ashland, then La Plata, only because I can. A train, #90, will pass through Ashland, two hours late. Then I will watch #03 The Southwest Chief, bound for Los Angeles, cross the Mississippi and pass along the River at Ft Madison, a remarkable site. I will watch the night life in Ashland then flip to La Plata, for the last look at #3.

Dinner was Stouffer’s Mac & Cheese, a tuna sandwich and some store-bought banana pudding. That was for J.

I have the usual aches and pains I always seem to have.  I have laundry dried, ready to sort and fold.

Summer in Virginia is one 90° F (32°C) day after another. I know. Those of you in India or Australia (6 months from now) must find my complaint amusing. 

I’m glad to see live cricket back, even in an empty stadium. The England vs West Indies Test is interesting. I think the Westies came to play. And Stokes can’t win it by himself for England.

Sexual thoughts are always floating in and out of my head. I could interrupt this rather juvenile game of trainspotting, go upstairs, hang out with my wife and seek to pull her knickers down. She would appreciate the attention even if my hands stay away from her waistband.