I’m not a fan of being right. Mostly because I’m usually right about bad things. But as William Shakespeare once said, “C’est la vie.” (I really don’t know if he did, but he may have, so just go with it).
Tag Archives | family stuff
Of Suns and Sons
I ended my last post by saying that I was about to head out onto the front porch to enjoy another cup of coffee and watch the sunrise. And I did, but it sort of hilariously went pear-shaped.
Nearing The End and The Start
June is done. Thank the dogs above!
This Week in Decking
It’s been ten days since I last strapped hiking sneakers on my feetz, and it might be another four or so more until I do so again.
Holiday Week Mush Brain Spew
This is a long one, people. No reason, really; I just found myself wasting time every so often this week and writing down random shit.
6:05 AM on Christmas Morning, and I was up as usual.
No, I wasn’t waiting to gleefully rip through a giant pile of presents (although there was one with my name on that I had my eye on); I was up waiting for the freaking sun to start thinking about rising so I could squeeze in a few miles before we did the version of Christmas Morning you do when it’s just a couple and their 19-year-old son who is now thankfully way more into sleep than opening holiday presents.
Sadly, the sun wouldn’t be fully up until after 8, so that meant I had nothing to do but tend to the dogs, drink coffee, and look at the ever-declining interwebs until I had enough light for woodsy lumbering without a headlamp.
Chicken Fingers & Hot Snakes
After hitting my weekly 30-mile goal last Friday, I held true to my promise to “not do a damn thing” over the weekend. And by not do a damn thing, I mean no hiking, for there are always more leaves to bag, foods to cook, groceries to get, poop to scoop, dogs to tend to, beers to drink, music to listen to, sexy time to have, and absolute shit International football to watch (Gahdamn, I hate International Breaks!).
Lockdown Pickups
Sometimes life comes at you fast. One minute you’re hiking along cussing a trail packed with ice that refuses to melt despite the 40˚ daytime temps, and 12 hours later, you get word your kid needs to hunker down in his dorm room with the lights off because there is an active shooter at large on campus.
2022 Mental Recap
This is my last post of 2022. A year-end wrap-up post, if you will. Almost all of it has to do with crawling out from the rock of depression I’ve been living under for the past couple of years. Read if you want, or don’t.
No Swimming, No Bear Wrestling
This is part two in a nine-part travelogue devoted to a recent two-day trip to Boyne City. I jest, it’s two parts, and you are under no obligation to read a word. Part I is HERE. — Management.
With no job, dogs, or kid to be up for, Wifey and I took our time getting out of bed the next morning. Then it was off to Lake Charlevoix Coffee for, well, coffee.
Finding Traction
Yet another unneeded brief message from the President and CEO of thesoiledchamois.net, and Soiled Chamois Enterprises, Inc.™
Dear Reader,
The following lengthy post deals with my ongoing search for inner peace and self-love (not code for masturbation). There is talk of mental health and depression. I am CLEARLY not a doctor, just a putz with a blog and 50 years and counting of personal experiences dealing with some depression-type shit.
I’ve waffled back and forth on whether it’s in my best interest to post something like this or not, but given the stuff I’ve already written about myself and/or my hatred of the orange buffoon that had been in the White House for four years, I think I’ll be alright. If a potential employer sees this and is offended, you’re not the sort I would want to be associated with anyway.
And if the Google machine somehow pointed you here because you were looking for immediate help, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 800-273-8255 or visit suicidepreventionlifeline.org.
— Management