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Much thanks for the love shared via PM, comments and private blog comments. You all know who you are and you are loved. I also continue to assure you I am NOT worthy of it. But I will continue to enjoy and daydream of Logos and a park bench--her paying for lunch out of respect for my age and her entitlement to foot the bill for turning me loose here.

Well I was wondering what the topic would be. Didn't dream it would be a crash and burn--by no means on the level of destruction the mid-life crisis was but there was a moment or two that I tired of even pretending to care about family.

When these moods strike my first tendency is to do what I call the Burroughs method (Edgar Rice that is): When his hero gets into a jam with the true love of his life he RUNS AWAY for the next 100 pages and fights Martians until true love wins out over the silly misunderstandings. This is what did with Litnet. Family hits hard--leave your net love before they can hurt you too.

Anyhoo--here goes one of the life changing days of these windy roads I'm traversing.

Monday started innocently enough. Military payday hit on Saturday but the military retirement check posts Monday so I spent the weekend re-recovering from a cold I had lost then found again, reading Shadow comics, commenting on blogs and got stupid and visited the Religious forums. Why oh why do I subject myself to that particular form of donning a hair shirt on giving flaggelation a bad name??!! I plan on vacating that particular forum for quite some time or start using a concordance more. A blog entry had also gone slightly astray and I was going over the usual failure to communicate problems I seem to have. Unbeknownst to me that morning a dissatisfaction with the status quo was developing.

We get the money, fuel and drop by Cashland offering up the usual prayer to see the beloved Rachel (who has never heard the word Logos sighed in the ear but is well aware of just slightly less affection for one the three Angies--her co-worker.

Alas Richie is weeping for his Rachel but Angie is there. With baby pictures. I do the dutiful oohs and ahhs and well done and admire the shape she is back in perhaps 15 seconds too long when I mumble about a teddy bear in the future someday probably not. Angies smiles--I collect up the money orders and proceed to the post office to get stamps. From there to Rouschs where I am young compared to the usual crowd where I have lunch then off to the library to write up the bills and drop in the mailbox on the corner.

The latest 24 novel that came out just last Tueday (Colateral Damage) and a Talbot Mundy Jimgrim reprint from 1922 is redeemed from the News Outlet and I see how much is left. $30. Bookery is closed on Mondays. What to do with $30?

I know go get that Teddy bear, score points with Angie and maybe Rachel will be at work. Bonus. Off to Meijers where the long suffering and oh so patient wife is doing a morning shift. As I walk in there is evidence that Easter is closer then I thought. I see a GREEN bunny rabbit with floppy ears made for chewing and it's mine--or rather Angies. Ruth's partner/sister in spirit and major pain in her side Catherine checks me out and back to Cashland.

No Rachel. The bigger surprise is I hand the bunny to Angie with a remark that when her son has a green tongue she'll know who to blame. She thanks me and for once even to my surprise I DON'T milk the moment. I leave it unspoiled and our friendship the better for it. I leave promptly and start to head out to work not knowing my life will be changing somewhat at approximately 4:30 pm.

Courtesy of my idiot brother. The oldest one.

NEXT: A death in the family, a bequest, a sad demonstration of the depths of hate and the burden/blessing of an inheritance.