Not an outdoor fog, but an interior fog, that calls me back to sleep.

J had nightmares last night, screaming nightmares, about what I do not know.

I had a dream wherein I was in South America with my ex-wife and we were trying to get to the airport in Rio.

And sleep and restfulness are the big losers this morning

The Fleischer Studios , who brought us Betty Boop and Popeye did an animated cartoon version of Superman back in the early 1940’s in Technicolor that is pretty cool. Good heroic Superman stories I just saw one where Superman saves a runaway train, carrying a billion dollars in gold bullion and Lois Lane.

It is early Monday morning. I feel pretty good, I am just awake now. I will go back to bed. I had a satisfying enjoyable weekend. I feel connected again, to my wife and to people in general. It’s not perfect, but I’ve just learned new things about love that I can’t fully describe. It centers around regaining my sense of self-worth, as a man. Just leave it at that.

So I am watching Mickey Mouse cartoons, preparing to drink some Decaf coffee, while beating myself up about not initiating sex with my wife after convincing myself that nothing bad would happen if I did. Now I am way deep in my head about this.

But the whole point of watching Mickey and Pluto is to take my mind off the nonsense I fabricated in my head and just enjoy these wonderful cartoons. I must say Disney put out the best cartoons of the Thirties through the Sixties, may be even later. They were heavy on the charm and light on the mayhem.

In my perfect fantasy world J would watch cartoons with me. I don’t expect her to watch W.W. II documentaries. There are only so many anyone can watch before one begins to question one’s sanity.

We have a really cute cartoon now Squatters’ Rights, with Chip and Dale hiding out in Mickey’s cabin in the woods. They’re hiding in his stove. Pluto is there too. .

Despair is impossible to sustain watching Mickey Mouse. Good choice Dave.

#2 son, C, came by yesterday. He wanted to eat Indian food. I told him I wanted to have root beer floats. So we ordered take away from the Indian restaurant I got roghan josh with lamb. He ordered goat curry. We had Samosas and spinach and potato patties and enjoyed the food tremendously. Somehow the Indian dishes that come all mixed together in spicy sauce all taste the same. They are delicious, mind you, but my palette can’t make distinctions in the flavors.

After eating, we watched cricket for awhile. I was explaining the game to him. This is an over This is how a wicket can be taken. This is a boundary 4; this is a boundary 6. He was doing well until we got to “lbw“. Then his eyes just glazed over.

We had root beer floats. It is hard to describe the flavour. But, trust me, it tastes good. To the root beer, a scoop or two of vanilla ice cream is added. And the ice cream, being mostly fat, floats. It is a real American summertime treat.

Even though he is 32, an adult, we had some innocent fun together. It made a huge difference to me.

I slept earlier on Saturday night. Then I awoke, watched some TV with J. I came downstairs to fix J’s lunch. I fixed some cream cheese and olive spread. She likes that. Now I sit here, World War II documentaries on YouTube, pondering, wanting to cry for no particular reason.

I’m going to bed.

The World today is one rape and one murder away from total madness. Not real ones, even though they will occur. The TV was on as I attempted to nap beside my wife, as I desperately tried to bring myself closer, while at the same, the TV rapists and sadists were fully engaged.

So now the virtual PTSD has had its way. And passion becomes an elusive wish.

Life, so dear. Peace so sweet.

When I sit at the end of the day and think of something to write about, some days are easier than others.

I went to BJ’s, almost spent $30 on bath tissue. Then I realized that we just aren’t that low, to buy about a six month supply for us.  I did buy croissants, Andouille sausage, coffee, and Serrano ham. You know, the real necessities.

I really got J laughing at lunch when I did an improvisational riff on Tail Envy among Old World Monkeys towards their New World Monkey cousins. It was one of those situations where I made something up on the spur of the moment and it worked. Now I can’t remember a damn thing about it.

As to laundry, I cranked out three loads. It wasn’t a big deal, just needed doing. I made a fruit salad with honeydew melon and strawberries. I should have bought some blueberries to add, if only for colour.

Anybody else out there remember how Tang©, an orange flavored powdered drink mix, was sold on the premise that the astronauts drank it? I’m watching a bunch of commercials where Warner Brothers cartoon characters, Bugs, Yosemite Sam, and Elmer Fudd  are flogging the product.  More crap from my childhood.

So there you have it. I had a good day, texted with a friend, made myself useful, had a nice shower, put on clean clothes.

Life is good

This day was kind of meh. I sort of wish something exciting would happen. Exciting, as in wild, passionate sex Exciting. I did some sleeping. Watched a show on YouTube about the Songhai Empire in what is now Mali along the River Niger. This is the first I have heard of this kingdom. I did know about the fabled city of Timbuctoo, somewhat related to to this empire. Thus edified, I decided to sleep a bit after that. Then when I awoke, I put a brisket in the slow cooker. So we had brisket tonight. I fixed corn, tomatoes, and okra for my own enjoyment. J does not like okra.  I also made a fruit salad with honeydew melon and strawberries for my dessert. I ought to be happy. I’m bored, fed up with COVID-19 protocols, sexual denial, all the crap senior citizens like me have to put up with. However, as bad as things seem, the country and the world are not turning to poo! Trust me. This is pretty much the way things have always been. Good stuff and bad happening at the same time. The constant you need to be aware of, in case you are not aware, is that mass media are constantly trying to manipulate how you feel. They will distort, if not outright lie about what is actually going on. This did not start with the advent of #45 on the scene. It’s been going on as long as I can remember. There are heroes and villains, people you are supposed to like, like JFK, people you are supposed to dislike , Castro, for example. Now it may be that the good guys are good and the bad guys are bad, but that is merely serendipitous when it does happen. Truth is the whole purpose of the mass media is to facilitate your buying stuff. Sixty years ago, advertisers wanted people to buy cigarettes. Now the big advertisers are pharmaceutical companies that make drugs for COPD and lung cancer. Get it?

Sitting here, after a good day. My son is OK. That is a big relief.

We went out for a late lunch and I fixed a spinach Canadian bacon, mushroom fritatta for a late supper. I hear the dish washer running now, all electric motors and gears and spray.

I made Earl Grey tea for after dinner. Right now I’m watching a creepy tourism film from Nazi Germany, made in 1938. It is cuckoo clocks and Schühplättler, fröhlicher Volk. Did I say it was creepy? How, after 75 years, do we still get chills watching their lies?

I should go up. Really. I’m tired. Time for bed.