I am up. I am watching a Russian language war movie on YouTube. Occasionally a word of dialogue stands out that I understand. I follow the story through the action. The characters appear to be partisans on some endless odyssey.

My feet are cold. It is Dry Skin Season, where the skin dries and cracks, even bleeds for apparently no reason, except that it is cold and dry.

I went to Mellow Mushroom and had a pizza yesterday. We drove to Hanover courthouse, the next county north of Henrico to renew a vehicle license tag, because the wait is shorter up there. It was actually a pleasant ride. On the way back, we stopped at an antique shop to chat with the owner, a 92 year old woman, whom I have known for fifty years, most of my life. Her specialties are postcards and pottery.

Later that evening I helped a friend retrieve his cell phone which he left at a store where he worked that day. He is an intrepid and resourceful man who does not use an automobile. He gets around by walking, bicycle, bus or even train. It has become something of a sport for him.

This wakefulness is typical. I think I will go back to bed. And warm my feet.

Good night Loves.

I once studied Russian. And German. I have taken to watching Russian language films and programs on YouTube. There are usually no subtitles, which is fine with me. My interest in Russia and the Russian language is being rekindled. So for 2019, I will reopen this long-blocked channel.

What needs to be said is the profound admiration and respect I have for Russian culture and the Russian people. I also resent making Russia the scapegoat for all that is wrong with the world today. Believe me, the world could do a lot worse than having to deal with Vladimir Putin. Can you say “Stalin”?

I got caught up in stuff, found myself tired and with back pain. The lonely feeling crept back in. Rather than swim, I ended up watching a documentary on Napoleon. It was interesting. In the world post-Hitler, we rarely show interest in any other megalomaniacal war monger. Then again, next to Hitler, he wasn’t so bad.

I wish I could perpetually be a shining beacon of good nutrition, exercise, wellness in general. Life doesn’t work that way.

I hear the TV on upstairs. Upstairs, I shall go.

Good night Loves.

As if remorseful for the dingy gray drabness of the day, it is snowing again. We shall see what happens.

My wife has spent the day in bed, what she calls a “Relax-A-Fest”, what I call ignoring, possibly avoiding, me. I succumbed to the Temptress of Industry and vacuumed the carpet. There are black eye peas and tomatoes with onion simmering away, a sweet potato baking and soon a nice piece of sockeye salmon will be grilling in the oven. All wintry delights I guess, filling the house with heat and kitchen smells.

A day at home makes my disjointed world more painful. But what I write keeps the door to sanity open.

Later, loves.

“Thank you for sharing.”

It is 4:30 PM Eastern Time in the USA. J is at work. We had lunch at Longhorn’s Steakhouse, a chain restaurant we both enjoy. The waitstaff is nice and the food is good enough. I went to WW, formerly Weight Watchers, weighed in and am progressing toward a goal weight of around 165 lbs, (around 75 Kg or 11 stone/11 lb.) I am making progress again.

The swimming is coming along swimmingly. I started to deviate from doing healthy things back February, 2018. A friendship ended. If a friendship ends, it isn’t a friendship, is it? I dealt with this emotional disruption by punishing myself. I ate any and everything that would not directly kill me. I stopped exercising to the point where my body had lost its strength, endurance and flexibility. I developed diabetes. As to the former friend, he could have cared less, I am sure. It took nearly nine months to get through this. One lives. One learns.

So I picked myself up, dusted myself off and started taking care of myself again. Hence the WW, the swimming, the renewed positive outlook. I am home alone, taking time to write. Mentally, I am sorting out Love vs Lust. The conundrum never seems to resolve itself. To love is a beautiful thing. To lust, to gratify the power and and conquest need, has that empty dissatisfaction where I am simply not connecting at an intimate level with another person. I was willing to settle for that for the longest time.

I believe that nothing meaningful will happen in the next hour. I might as well go to bed. If Trump needs me, he’s gonna have to take a number and wait. I will get to him tomorrow.

Back in October, when I got the Diabetes Wakeup Call, I got serious about swimming again. Just about every issue I had with loss of flexibility and body aches have gone. I swim an average of five times per week now. The distance I swim is now consistently 2500 meters, over a mile and a half.

The physical liberation and the release from stress and worry go together. Swimming is an emotional liberator. I can feel power and strength in my body.

And it raises a question, why aren’t more people in their 60’s active? I realize many folks have health issues. I guess when we consider the Baby Boomers, more of us are active than those in prior generations.

Anyway, this is more of a ramblethan anything else. I am super glad to be active again.

Every once in a while, I have to show my appreciation for Great Britain. Thank you for the sacrifices that saved Europe, Waterloo, The Somme, Dunkirk.