A bottle of wine, some bread and some cheeze
Now Playing: Cowboy Junkies
Topic: Mysteries of Life
This would be an evening of wine, cheeze and a crust of bread. As it happens, I opened a bottle of Turning Leaf, White Zinfindel, a half of loaf of Homestlye Italian Bread and a hunk of cheeze. Very good all in all, I recommend starting the wine first, then ease into the bread and cheeze. I always feel bad about the zinfindel, I know I should have a bottle of Merlot but I really have never acquired a good taste for that red wine. I've tasted it, happily sipped away at it to make others happy but it takes a big effort to drink it willingly and it's an effort I have no reason to engage in sadly enough. I remember drinking it, enjoying the company but not the wine. Of course, the wine is now a memory of the person and so, it's a sad drink indeed and one I don't have the strength to indulge in.

Interestingly enough, as I mentally prepare myself to let various doctors prod and poke me for a variety of ills I find myself more accepting, or perhaps more tired and unwilling to fight kicking and screaming, of the uncoming dance with the docs. Does this hurt? Does that hurt? We'll have to biopsy this or that. You don't really need any medication to calm you while we prepare to put really large needles in you do you? I hate having to fight for something simple like a xanex or codine or something to keep the welling feeling of terror at bay. But then I've become quite loud and insistent in my desires and efforts to keep from getting railroaded or run roughshot over. I'm not sure what 'roughshot' really is but I believe it's appropriate in the context of the sentence. Fighting for good medical care is not one of my favorite battles but I guess I'll battle away as necessary.

Speaking of medical, a friend of mine is returning from having a medical procedure (read surgery) , returning from where his parents lived. The surgery was successful in that he's not dead and is returning home. I was driving down one of the main cross streets of town and pulled out my little cell phone upon noticing the messages I had. I drove along, called up my voice mail and listened. One of them I called back and lo and behold, thanks to the magic of cell phones I found that she was traveling down the opposite side of the same road. She was stopping for a bit to feed her kids at McDonalds's and I happened to be passing just there and so we met for lunch. To bring the story together, she was going to the house of the friend returning from his surgery and was going to put up a 'welcome home' banner. I like the fellow very much and was one of those who visited him in the hospital when he originally went in to get seen and ended up a week. So I'm not one of those noncaring folks. However, the young lady, a optimistic, hopeful and full of life person was the only one to think of providing a banner of welcome for old dude. Well, people like that, things like that remind me of how far I have to come in my desires and efforts to be a compassionate person. An effort for me is for others a natural reaction and a natural state of being.