Glitch in the Matrix; Much Randomness

 This is going to be a really meandering post, somewhat wine induced.

Is it possible to eat too much salmon?  For the last few weeks Aldi has had "lightly smoked salmon."  Still raw, but with just a bit of smoke, and it's awesome.  I eat it one night with roast potatoes and some other veg (and wine - it was tonight's dinner) and then there's enough for another couple of meals, and the stuff is delicious.

This almost compulsive writing seems to stem from the feeling that my life at the moment, attempting to move forward, is like walking across a bridge of sand that collapses as soon as I take the next step.  So I like to write and keep track, not wanting to lose another year like I did 2021.  Quite often I look back even at recent posts (how did I forget that I had to deal with a stinky dead opossum?)

The glitch in the matrix:  We sign in and sign out of work on a tablet.  If I want to, I can check my total hours (I've logged in over 2,000 volunteer hours).  Thursday I was leaving - had already logged out - and then thought I was curious about what my total was.  Of course, I lost a lot of time when I was in the hospital with Bob in Gainesville for three months.  Then I was wondering how long I had been back - had it been a  year yet?  Uh - yes.  More like three years and three months.  

Hence - trying to keep track.  I've mentioned my friend Los before - ever since he lost his wife, he does daily postings of random memories.  Today he was posting about how Ellen never quite understood his pleasure in really old movies and TV shows.  He mentioned enjoying the Disney Zorro - the old black and white one.  Suddenly I remembered being a little kid in my mask and cape and toy sword with a piece of chalk on the end, writing the big "Z" on any surface that presented itself.

Hamish and ice water.  Hamish has become very good for my self-discipline.  When I have wine with dinner, I really should also have a glass of water handy and drink that as well as wine.  Notice the "should."  [trigger warning - germaphobes look away now].  What has improved my discipline in this area is the fact that Hamish likes to have a glass of ice water.  Not ice in his water bowl - he wants to drink out of my glass.  And should I sit down to eat and there's no glass of water - I get the Cat Stare.  He doesn't drink much, and, as long as it's there, I end up drinking it as well.

I've been reading a bit of Ursula K. LeGuin lately.  Being as she's been one of the seminal science fiction/fantasy writers of the last century, it's odd that I've never read her works.  I first read a collection of essays that I enjoyed.  Then a few short stories that I didn't particularly.  Then the Wizard of Earthsea, which was groundbreaking at the time (written in 1968).  I found it to be a sort of standard of "young boy discovers that he has magic powers."  It wasn't until I read her afterword that I realize that the standard had to start somewhere.  She talked about wizards always being old men (Gandalf, Merlin) and she wanted to write about a young one just starting out.  These days - heck, you can't find a Magical Chosen One who has gotten out of puberty.
My mind took a side trip with this.  The young wizard was called Sparrowhawk (a play on the name Merlin, although most people don't know that a merlin is a small falcon).  Suddenly a great fantasy character name popped into my head:  Kestral Windhover - which are both alternate names for a sparrowhawk.  Briefly, in my head, Kestral was (of course) a teenage girl.  But then I decided that it really was a guy in his mid-fifties, child of a tree-hugging, pot smoking hippie mother who has had trouble climbing the corporate ladder while saddled with a name like Kestral and whose mother who still wants to come smudge his office with smoking sage.  And *now* he discovers that he is some sort of Chosen One.  Maybe I'll write his story some day.

Lists.  The other thing my wandering mind wants to talk about it lists.  I've always kept a "to-do" list.  Bob thought it was weird - he never kept lists, he simply did stuff.  But lists calm my brain.  I can clean out the car, for example, without constantly reminding myself not to forget to pay a bill.  Besides, there is a satisfaction to crossing something off of a list.  (Adam Savage, of Mythbuster fame, says on his projects list that he goes so far as to write something down that he's already done, just for the satisfaction of checking it off).  Lists of the day were jotted on any convenient scrap of paper - backs of envelopes were always good.   I really wish I had kept one of those; one time, having finished something and going to check it off an see what was next, I found that Bob had amended the list.  In between each of my entries were items like "hug Bobbie," "give Bobbie a kiss," "tell Bobbie you love him."  And, in turn, those were dutifully checked off.

After I came back from Gainesville, exhausted and brain dead and bereaved and confused by the Covid shut down  I would sit for hours and just stare, knowing that I should do something but not certain of what.  So I made lists.  Had I eaten?  Taken a shower? Fed the cats?  I eventually evolved a master list, which gets posted fresh on the refrigerator door every month.  Mostly cleaning, but also things like "fill hummingbird feeder."  I can actually look at it and tell how I've been doing that month.  No checkmarks actually means that I'm going OK - just getting stuff done without thinking about it.  But when I'm in the doldrums - being able to check off "washed dishes" keeps me up and moving.

There are still lists that get jotted down randomly - non repeating things like "make dentist appointment."  I've taken to keeping a legal pad on the coffee table.  Every ephemeral thing gets jotted down there - the daily list, jotting down the daily Wordle game, slotting in letters, random Sudoku scores, quotes that I find interesting, titles of recommended books or movies (that eventually get transferred to yet another list), notes on books when I'm co-reading with Ebaida, a recipe seen on the web - whatever I want to temporarily remember.  It's almost time for a new pad.

OK, wine has worn off, and I'm working tomorrow so I should go to bed and read.  Not quite sure why I had the urge to ramble tonight, especially about lists.  Just a way of moving.  Maybe not forward, but at least moving.