Thursday, January 31, 2019

Monday, January 28, 2019

Pizza and memories

My eldest daughter and family had delivery pizza the other day, I had a slice, but couldn't stop remembering Tuscany and the pizza there.

And the surrounding environs. 

A olive grove at sunset

And the 'manhattan' of Tuscany, named for it's towers, Emily and I on the outskirts. 

Saturday, January 26, 2019

And another one

Nothing really new with me, continue to improve (and lose wt!), so it's meme time for now.

Monday, January 21, 2019

From Blue to Red

No, not politics, silly. I continue to improve, it's a learning process on my part as I was never a endocrine guy.

My peaks and valley ratio is continuing to shrink as I figure out my intake and output ratio, the diuretic dosage, the diet aspect, etc. I feel markedly better than a week ago, starting to exercise, etc. Alas, there have been some permanent changes I need to make, no longer can I enjoy my evening glass of IPA, but it's a small thing. I have faith in my diagnostic acumen, even if I have some Doubting Thomas's (my cardio guy).

I'll be in Seattle the majority of the winter I believe. I'm hoping to get in one last summer in Butte, but a move is in the future.

Hope all of you are well, and thanks again for your moral support. It was very helpful.

Monday, January 14, 2019


Discharged yesterday PM, at daughter's house, feel much better, think my blood work is no longer way out of whack. Seeing cardio guy this morning to see what he thinks. More later, but thanks for your good wishes.

Sunday, January 13, 2019


Not a flattering picture, I agree.  But, I just ate something, first bites since Wednesday.  I won't bother you with the details, but I'm in Swedish in Seattle, and things seem to be improving.  Will keep in touch as I can.
Hoping all of you are well.

Saturday, January 5, 2019

A drift to the past

I haven't been up to posting in a bit; I did a post, decided it wasn't up to snuff. So, I'm reposting one of my 'River Stories', there are about 6 I think, all done 6-8 years ago. This wasn't the first written, just seems to be the beginning.

River, the beginning 

I began each day like this, as though it were the last. I know the last days will be here, where the sun runs into the ocean, that I will see in a movement of sea birds and hear in the sound of water beating against the earth what I now only imagine, that the ocean has a sadness beyond even the sadness of herons, that in the running into it of rivers is the weeping of the earth for what is lost.

By evening, when confirmation of those thoughts seems again withheld, I think of going back upriver, up to the log jam, past where the stump is jammed, or even beyond, to the headwaters, to begin again.

I will tell you something. It is to the thought of the river's banks that I most frequently return, their wordless emergence at a headwaters, the control they urge on the direction of the river, mile after mile, and their disappearance here on the beach as the river enters the ocean. It occurs to me that at the very end the river is suddenly abandoned, that just before it's finished the edges disappear completely, that in this moment a whole life is revealed.

It is possible I am wrong. It is impossible to speak with certainty about very much.

It will not rain for the rest of the day. Lie down here beside me and sleep. When you awake you will feel the pull of warm winds and wish to be gone. I will stand somewhere on the beach staring at the breakers, the scampering of sanderlings, thinking I can hear the distant murmuring of whales. But I can as easily turn inland, and go upriver.

When you awake, if you follow the river into the trees up the valley I will be somewhere ahead or beyond, like the herons.

When you are overwhelmed with feeling,  when your fingers brush the soft skin of a deer-head orchid , or you see a house ahead, near the river bank beyond the falls, you will know a loss of guile, and the beginning of the journey.

Come find me. We have much to see.