Wrapping up last year

I keep thinking I should write something about the last … gosh, I guess three months of last year. I keep not wanting to do it. Not that there's anything bad about it. I just can't summon the energy.

This is an omnibus post. The only common theme is that I'm too lazy to break it out into multiple different posts. Or maybe I should say that empirically I have already observed a strong tendency not to write it. So tonight I figured, "Better to get it all written than to worry about the details." I count 14 different tags or labels on this post right now. Maybe I'll add more later. That should be a sign that it really does tell multiple stories.

October

Actually I guess I've already talked about a lot of it. In October I traveled to visit Debbie for a week, and we went on a silent meditation retreat. (The retreat lasted just a weekend, so we also spent time visiting her family.) Then I flew on to another town where Marie was attending a conference. I appeared with her at the big dinner, as arm candy, and otherwise wandered around town while she attended multiple sessions. I think I talked about this trip in this post here. (See also this one, for a slice of life around Debbie's family.)

November

In November, Mother and I joined Brother and SIL in driving all day to visit family in another state over, for Thanksgiving. I talk about some parts of that trip in this post here. There were other parts of the visit as well, but I don't remember anything so important that I need to remember it or write about it. Stan was better behaved than he was five years ago, and easily distracted with Monty Python routines. This time it was his little sister who was the terror, but not as destructively.

Early December

At the beginning of December, I traveled to watch Son 2 get his Master's degree. I mention that visit briefly in this post, and talk about it in a little more detail in the first half of this post. 

One thing I don't mention in either spot is that Wife and I got along just fine. At one point we were left together alone for an hour or two, and I took the opportunity to tell her about something I had asked John Michael Greer in one of his Ask Me Anything columns. My question was, "What happens if you make a promise to a god and then break it?" His answer was, "Your life becomes a smoking crater of bad luck until you fulfil the promise." (I tell the story about this exchange in this post here.) Anyway, I didn't tell her that I was the one who had asked the question. I just said I'd seen the answer posted on some random site on the Internet. And I wondered out loud if the chronic bad luck that follows her around might have any relation to her no longer fulfilling the vows she took to the Wiccan gods when she was ordained as a priestess? She chuckled that yes, she sure does have a lot of bad luck, and added that she has no idea if there's a connection. I left it with her as something to think about, and she thanked me. I have no idea whether she'll act on it, but that part isn't my responsibility. At least I passed along the information. 

Then on the way home I took a detour for a couple of days to visit Schmidt and Ma Schmidt on their farm. I talk about that here.

Late December

Then it was Christmastime. 

Son 2 and Beryl flew to Europe. 

Son 1 drove to my place on December 22, and we went out to lunch. (I was going to drive to his place like I did in 2022 and in 2023, but he made a point of wanting to come to me instead.) We talked a bit about his work. Probably about some other things too, I forget. Somewhere along the line he referenced living with Wife, and the frustrations of being "the only functional adult" in the apartment. Of course my immediate riposte was, "At least there's one!" But then I agreed with him that—left to her own devices—Wife makes shockingly bad decisions. I did add that when I first met her that wasn't nearly as true as it is now; she had more energy and she regularly fired on all cylinders. But somewhere along the line … things changed. I don't know quite when or why. We talked for a couple of hours, and then he packed up the Christmas presents I'd gotten for him and for her and drove away.

My Aunt C drove out to visit with Mother for Christmas Day and the few days before. To be clear, this is the aunt that I hardly ever mention. Whenever I talk about (for example) staying with my aunt over Thanksgiving, I mean the other one. Anyway, I drove to meet them on the afternoon of the 23; we were going to go out to dinner and then go to a production of "The Nutcracker." Traffic was crawling the whole way. I missed dinner but got to the theater just about the same time they did. I spent the 24 buying more booze for our dinner the next day, and otherwise hanging out. After dinner, Aunt C and I sat up making cookies and talking politics. It turns out we agree on most of the issues that came up. Aunt C described herself as "pretty hardline conservative," but I demurred; I suggested instead that the parties keep switching positions back and forth so much that it's hard to say what's "conservative" and what's "radical." For example, opposition to the Ukraine War is called "right-wing" today; but someone who made the exact same arguments and used the exact same language about the Iraq War twenty years ago would have been called "radical left-wing." And on many subjects (for example gender transition), I think what she calls "hardline conservative" would have been called "common sense" only a few years ago. 

On the 25, Brother and SIL joined us. I don't remember whether they were late. No, I take that back—now that I raise the question I do remember that they got there later than they said they were going to arrive. But it was no more than an hour past. So if you judge by when the rest of us expected them, they were basically on time. 

Anyway, they made lots of food. We all ate and drank and napped … and after the sun went down I think we finally opened presents. There weren't a lot of them, but it was sort of a ritual gesture.

I think there were more stories from Christmas, but that was a month ago. I didn't write them down, and now I no longer remember them. I scrawled one note to myself about conspiracy theories, but I have no idea what it meant.

And let's not forget … January of this year

On New Year's Eve, Marie flew into town to visit for a week. We fucked. (Well, sort of.) We dined out. We dined in. She told me that my sleep apnea has gotten a lot worse. I told her I think the severity of my apnea is more or less directly proportional to my weight, and I've put on a fair bit of weight in the last couple of years. (I think it's probably also proportional to how much I drink, but I didn't mention that part because I didn't want her to ask how much that really is.) 

At one point we were lying down together for a nap, and I started to dream before I was completely asleep. So I heard someone talking and asked her, "What did you say?" She said, "Nothing." Then a day or two later the same thing happened. After the second time, she asked me, "Do you think someone is trying to talk to you?"

"Umm … sorry. Who do you mean?"

"Do you think one of the gods is trying to talk to you?"

Oh, that. Pause. Shift mental gears in a BIG way. Aloud: "No, I don't think so. On the whole my experience is that They don't generally try to talk to me in words." (Except when Wife was in Aspect, but that's a totally different phenomenon.)

"OK. I just wondered. I'm still worried about your apnea, and about how tired you are."

"Thank you." I didn't say any more than that aloud. Privately I was thinking, Well that's fair. If I had any goddamned sense, I'd be worried about it too. But then that means I'd have to lose weight, and drink less. And all that means changing my habits, which requires effort. I'll think about it tomorrow.

But I guess she's not wrong to worry. Maybe I should pull my shit together.

I'll think about it tomorrow.

Meanwhile I think that brings me more or less up to current.