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Mostly Minutiae No. 20

I’m somewhere between Linux and
Windows in a netherworld. It started
when the daytime foot pain

intensified; pulsing every ten seconds
or so. No sleep. Then sleep came
unbeknownst to me. Next it was 05:30.

Windows 10 failed to open. Mouse
battery quit. And weekday coffee
refused to kick in. I remain hopeful.

Hopeful for my laptop; hopeful for
complete healing. It just isn’t today.
So, I’m wearing old man compression

socks; thin, skin-tight to just below the
knee. And an ankle thing on my right
ankle. Spasms all day. The last thing

I need is more medical bills. But I made
an appointment with my PA on Friday,
just in case. In case of what? Well, in

case both the pain and I are still here on
Friday. Other than that it has been a
great day. Cooked two hamburgers in an

iron skillet because the splatter screen
fits. Garage door just went down. She
and the kids are going to Cave Creek for

dinner. Looking out my window, I must
remember to bring the garbage can in.
(They just came back! Somebody forgot

their eye glasses.) I had burgers with
ketchup on a plate with four radishes.
No bread. Then a cup of tea. And, a few

cookies, of course. Dinner for me may be
popcorn or a PB&J and plain Ramen soup.
They may get to eat great Mexican, but I

get to watch Dark Matter! (They are not a
fan.) What about my stupid laptop? I hate
it when a window in Linux is bigger than

the screen; it refuses to adjust so you can
get to the buttons you need on the bottom
of the screen you cannot see. (Doesn’t

make sense? Sorry, I’m not rewriting it;
I’m too tired.) God is still good. He will heal
me soon. Dark in an hour. Long post to

remind me that God works in me “both to
will and to do for His good pleasure.” Sick
or well, it is for Him; it is all for Him.

Categories: Poetry

Tagged as:


Poet, Writer, US Army (Retired)

I dreamed of writing when I was a youngster. The love of books and writing may have helped to dull the pain of severe sexual abuse as I was sexually abused by two men at my father’s place of work from age 8 to 12 or so. I learned about this for the first time when I was 50 years old. So, as a boy, reading was the only place I had to go to. My fantasy world was better and safer than my real world. I loved reading and writing.
Reading books and writing poetry are a joy to me still and are an important part of my life. (See my About Me page on my blog for the complete profile.)

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