Never thought I’d live this long, to be honest. I’m curious: Those of you who actually have to live in the world – have you formed the habit of facing each new year with at least mild dread? Because I’m kind of a bystander and I have to admit I sort of do.
Every morning I take a composition book down from the shelf and record the opening battery voltage and indoor/outdoor temperatures, just so I have basis for comparison when related questions come up, and also things I need to keep track of like propane bottle swaps and dogfood bag openings. Helps me notice consumption trends and related budget issues, propane leaks, that sort of thing. I get two years per side out of a book – flipping it over and using both sides of each page, a book lasts me four years. I’ve been doing it for 12 years. So today was something of an event,…
…because I had to remember to start a new book. Seems to me the cover on this one is quite a lot flimsier, which is bad because they get kind of ratty after four years.
There’s some humidity in the air, which always helps with my bread. I got a nice loaf yesterday.
And that’s about all there is to report. I hope your new year goes at least as well for you as the last one did.
Hope yours goes as well as it can for 2024. Have to see what happens with the divisions that have been allowed to enter the country illegally.
“…have you formed the habit of facing each new year with at least mild dread?”
Leave it to you, Joel, to start a new year with an interesting question.
The dread I have is not for what’s to come in 2024, rather it is for what I see coming in 2025.
Well, I’m hoping for a better New Year. Two hospital stays in one year were quite enough for me. They did get the ol’ ticker and lungs working better, so there is that.
A sense of dread—hmmm, I get up every day with a sense of dread. How is Murphy going to aggravate me today? Some days I get lucky and he is off pestering someone else; other days I have his undivided attention. As for TPTB, every last one of them needs electroshock therapy until they beg to go home and never stick their heads outside their front doors, and this includes every petty Karen, whatever their gender or ethnicity.
Enough of being grumpy! I’m going to go start New Years Dinner.
Having just made an investment that would take 10 years to pay back, I just accept the fact I woke up again today. Cuz if I don’t wake up, it’s not my problem anymore! But for those left behind, it is an opportunity, instead of just saying Screw it, I quit. Y’all can get a job somewhere else.
Happy New Year to one and all.
Jerry
Dread? No. Confused? Yes.
Still waiting for the 70’s to come back.
I’ve used the same New Years hat for four years. I got it on sale after New Years 2020. First time I wore it, I added an I after 2020. Then II, then III. This year IV. Sequels to a bad horror movie. Also, although I am over 60, I have a body like a 30 year old. A 30 year old Crown Victoria.
Joel, has it occurred to you that you have lived this long BECAUSE of your living situation? I’m sure it’s a whole lot healthier and less stressful than living in a city in California. There’s something liberating about being able to step out the door and pee off the front porch. It’s my way of giving the finger to the “civilized” world.
Jim, you nailed it. Being able to pee off the porch without attracting angry neighbors, dogs, and wandering pods of policemen is precisely my definition of “the boonies”.
Jim, that is exactly my definition of “the boonies”!
This commenting system acts very weird on my computer…
Can’t say there’s any dread. The country is dead and gone, so I’m just watching the corpse careering about, held aloft by those who want to keep folks thinking there’s something to save. I’m just hoping the final collapse will be at least be a little humorous. I’ve prepared all I can. Nothing else I can do about it. Hell, when you’re doomed, you just get on with it & wait to pick up the pieces, if you survive it all.
We are so irrevocably fucked, so what the hell, enjoy each day!
I am carrying a little more these days, not feeling quite as safe as much as I am out alone, often out in the true boonies. Here at home it is fairly civilized, and I can see three rooftops from my house, down below me. I don’t quite consider this true boonies, although I know my husband often did pee off one of the porches. But in the true boonies, it is wilderness, no one for quite a ways, and no facilities of any sort whatsoever. Maybe angry wolverines, though, or badgers. But I am far less fearful of these wild friends than of the criminal fiends invading our Nation. How long do they get relocation assistance, anyway? My elk stew is ready. Happy New Year all you fine people.
Mal: used to shower and, from time-to-time, step outside au-natural, to dry off. I miss living in the boonies. {long, rambling explanation of how the standard US Navy work boot became called “boondocker” is redacted because of, um, tequila and DIE and, um, stuff}
I try to keep my dread throttled down to a mild back ground worry.
Joel, regarding your propane post. No mention of coordinating neighbor, crew run to crappy little town. Are you taking the heep to town these days? If not, is it feasible, affordable to get it registered? Semi thinking minds want to know. I don’t believe in luck and my praying doesn’t seem to work, so, best wishes for good fortune to you, Toby, the Jeep and your entire AO.
Tree Mike
Tree Mike: No, I don’t take the Jeep to town for anything less than an emergency. My propane bottles piled up mostly because D&L’s truck was in the shop, so I had to wait till they got it back.