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My first night of sleep after shooting myself up with the new "miracle" prescription medicine for my rheumatoid arthritis at least feels like no real harm has been done. The real test for me is whether it will provide relief for the entire two weeks that pass between shots. I avoided shooting up for my whole life and now that fear has past. In a way I don't have much of a choice, but my body doesn't matter so much anymore as long as it lets me do what I wanna do without the interference of unrelenting pain.
The stiffness in my fingers seems to have back off a little. They were hurting a little yesterday, but when I went downstairs I saw that I had forgotten to take my nightly medicine along with the 600 mg of ibuprofen the night before. I took it immediately and soon some of the pain had dissipated. I took some more ibuprofen last night, and the stiffness in my fingers might have lessened because of that.
My younger brother (as opposed to my youngest brother) decided to buy our parent's house from the government to condemned it to build an extension to the runway again for $1 and the promise to move it or tear it down.
He slowly supported it and jacked it up to put on steel beams in order to move it to some land he had bought on the other side of my house. It was a little further down the dead-end road on the other side of the pond, and now it's on the other side of my house closer toward town.
The house is still on the rig my brother custom-built to haul it over there on. It's not a small house. It started out as a two-bedroom frame house the family who owned the land earlier built, but my mother and father added a large dining and living room, a large den/family room, with a basement and a two-car garage, and bricked it all up.
Moving that mess (including the garage) was a major task. He finally got it over to it's new location a week or so ago. Yesterday was scheduled to set it down on a temporary footing in order to build a new foundation under it. They tried, I suppose. I heard diesel motors roaring as they moved it in place, but the weather was just lousy for being outside for any reason.
The major snow storm that's moving up the east coast passed through here yesterday, but it didn't snow here because we're located south and east of where the cold front met the tropical storm. Our proximity to the Atlantic Ocean moderates some of these winter storms, and getting snow here can be scarce as hen's teeth. The coastal plains are a great place to live, and that's why most of the population lives close to the ocean.
Air-conditioning will spell the end of our paradise. Too many people are finding out that southerners are just people like anybody from anywhere on Earth, and that's a damned shame. True, the summer heat and humidity can get tough here, but modern weather reporting indicates constantly that the heat and humidity can be just as bad or worse further north.
A temperature of 95° (35° C) and a humidity of 95% works the same drudgery on most animals, especially delicate homo sapiens, no matter where it occurs, but moderate winters and air-conditioning is gonna be the death of easy country living with some privacy still available within a decade. With the population spiraling outta control so enough there will be no place to move to that's mo' bettah.
I don't see this other brother very often. We each have our own ways and those ways are different. True, we have the same parents, but all of our parent's children are really different in our own way. Some people have said that of the three boys my youngest brother is more intellectually inclined, our middle brother is more physically inclined, and it's said that I am is more spiritually and philosophically inclined.
None of use actually argue with that, but both my brothers and my older sisters got more to show for how they've adapted to life here on Earth. We have such varied interests we don't really compete with each other. Me and my brothers live within three hundred yards of each other now, and our sisters live within sixty miles.
We used to be scattered all over the world. It never seemed all that strange that we would be in consideration of how many times our family moved when we were kids. More and more often I realize how being around lots of different kinds of people and cultures helped us to go to different places without being intimidated.
Our youngest brother is 63 and my oldest sister is 79. We seem to be pulling together now as we get older and older. Our parents had a long life. My father was 88 years old when he died and my mother was 93. We could potentially live longer than they did. Which leads to my most pressing question now, what if I live... and keep on living... constantly losing what makes life worth living as I go along... it could get to be a drag... and I won't even know it. I probably won't even know when I get dead.
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I do not attempt to tell the God's own truth here because I don't know what the truth is or hardly ever. I try to capture the drifting thoughts that randomly appear in my imagination for reasons I may not understand. I don't know if the content I capture with these words is true or false. The Comments settings are turned off to prevent me from having to defend what amounts to little more than fanciful, sometime crude speculation. Great moments in our lives never return.
