It Has Been A Month

…since some unplanned shit went down. At the time (give or take) I wrote Survivalism On The Small Scale. Speaking only in generalities (not all things are fodder for public rumination) I explained that “all hell has broken loose” and I was working on a “new normal”.

It has been a busy month. Time steamrolls the uncertain. I was certain. I bobbed and weaved. I did OK. So here I am, once again blathering with his OPSEC mandated fuzzy generalities and all I can say is “one can adapt to a lot but it takes effort”.

At some point my plate got full. I mentally drew up a list of shit to do and crossed many items off the top. This includes, to some extent, my blog. It has been partly ignored, and partly managed in half assed dribs and drabs. Meanwhile, real life extruded me through the Technicolor funhouse of harried transition. Perhaps all this is a complicated way of saying “light posting y’all”?

But it’s also something optimistic. “Hey cruel fate, I’m still here. I’m coming up for air, checking that all is well, and diving back under. Ya’ haven’t beaten me yet. Peace out bitch.”

Another iron withdrawn from the fire is awareness, at least about the national political stage. It fell prey to personal and far more urgent endeavors. For example, I know, vaguely, how the mid-term election went (and my PredictIt losses) but I know nothing of the inevitable end game of Calvinball and skeevy recounts. Last I knew, election night, the Stupid party had a solid lead in the Senate. With occasional and brief peering over the foxhole edge I know the Evil party is playing the same old multiple recount song and dance and the Stupid party is (as usual) completely inept at countering it. However, I don’t know if it amounted to anything. (The one thing that’s without question? I’d never buy a used car from a Floridian ballot counter!)

So… after the lawyers take their cut… who won? Has the dust settled? Was the margin of cheat exceeded? Is it still ongoing? I haven’t excess time or heart to find out. Plus, “win” is the wrong term if it’s a “win” of recounts. Can you imagine the inner shame of “winning” like that? What would it do to your soul? What Greek tragedy happens in the head of someone playing those sorts of games?

Deplorable or not, I have honor. As do most of us. Keep it safe. When all else is forgotten you’ll still remember your own behavior. And, so they say, you’ll have to account for it.

In other news, also blurred by OPSEC, I have faced and surmounted another personal challenge. (Unrelated to the aforementioned unplanned shitstorm.) As if I didn’t have enough to do! I’ve already written about the joy and beauty and risk and heartbreak of doing something very hard. I mentioned it twice this year I think? But what I didn’t mention was I had another planned challenge.It had a long brewing, inflexible deadline… and this time, the third time, I met it quite well. That’s all you can do really. Take on all you think you can handle, and perhaps a bit more. Then, if you’re very lucky, you’ll handle it well.

Whether you’re Odysseus or Walter Mitty, you’ve got a horizon and if you cross it, you must slice and dice yourself until you’ve fit the new space.

Title: “Odysseus has bigger problems than you” or “White male oppresses endangered fauna”.

Perhaps, ironically, the challenge is greater for the Mittys, for theirs is not the spirit of such things.

Title: “Proto-milennial seeks mental safe space” or “Danny Kaye has better hair than you.”

I’m no Milquetoast of course, but this marks the third of three arbitrarily scheduled moments where I’ve done something I found very hard. This time was the least of the three. For which I’m relieved and thankful. Fittingly (and brutally), this last round came in the middle of “all hell breaking loose”. Such is the nature of life; you don’t get to specify all the parameters. The starting gate is really just the ending gate of the prep time. You might have the best of intentions but God may have other plans for you. As apparently he did.

But I don’t mind. The good news is it didn’t kick my ass. Rather I rose to the occasion. Maybe that was God’s plan? If so I’m happy with it but have had enough fun. Curmudgeonly prayer: “Thanks… it was good. Though please hold off on any more character building sessions for a while?”

Now it comes to late November. It has been my plan, for the whole year, that this is a finish line. At this juncture I would sit on my ass and gulp great heaving breaths of relief as the brutal year 2018 winds to a halt. When I made this plan I didn’t know it was going to be a whole year long shitstorm but coasting a while in November /December is still my plan. That’s precisely what I am doing.

Thus, you get today a post, typed on a bitshovel, with thoughts that may be a bit garbled. It says in a thousand odd words “light posting y’all… be patient”. I’m pretty pleased with things so far but need to let the dust settle.

Fortunately, there was hunting. I have the smell of forest in my nose. Nice.

The year has been, if not pleasant, at least correct. It remains good. It is not over but it’s winding down.

“Hell breaking loose” will ease up with time. I see a reassuring light before me. A tantalizing end zone appears in the distance. When I get there I shall not dance. I won’t spike the ball. I’ll simply be happy.

I did what needed doing, to the level I could, for whatever good it did… and does. After a few strides to gather my wits and breathe deep, I will declare it done. I’ll have myself a steak dinner and take a nap. Fifty naps! And then sip some bourbon by the fire and take yet another nap! Eventually I’ll be myself again. I’ll write stories about squirrels. Which, as far as I’m concerned, is a good a goal as any.

Have a good Thanksgiving. Eat turkey and tolerate or embrace your relatives as needed. My true Thanksgiving will come a bit later. I’m not in charge of scheduling and chaos is going to take a few last bites before it spits me out.

In the meantime, I’ve put another log on the fire, it’s cold out.