Hallå

I am still feeling pretty rotten but the blog is having a big day for some reason, blowing up in Sweden. With over 4200 views today, well past twice my normal number, Sweden accounted for about 3500 of the total. Välkommen, friends. I hope we can share pickled herring one day and talk about old times.

I no longer have the tools to see what people are reading with too much specificity but newcomers tend to search out my earlier offerings and I track as best as I can. Not sure what brought them in. I have been also getting more African traffic lately then I have ever had in fifteen years, principally from Uganda. I am glad that Africa is getting more plugged in to the internet, welcome friends from the mother ship. I hope to return to Africa one day.

I read some of my old posts earlier this morning and honestly had forgotten many of them, 12,035 posts published as of today. As I always say, what I lack in quality I make up for with sheer volume.

Anyway not much else to report. Feel crappy, Leslie made matzoh ball soup for us last night with both chicken and turkey and made her own bone broth. She is such a talented cook, the balls were light and perfect. She wants me to get well because truth be told, she can't stand it when I am home during the day. I think it is fair to say that she is sick of me or maybe sick of me being sick? I don't know but a little of me goes a long way and absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that.

Luckily I do have time to get well, no shows for a couple weeks and then two in Palm Springs and Santa Barbara. I will leave and perhaps she will like me once again one day. I might even attack and organize my shop next week, which is a total disaster.

I saw my first California poppy bloom on my street the other day, today there were several of them. The neighbor, Steph, reports a new hawk in the nest. Paper today says that they are going to name all the homeless people in the county, not exactly sure why they have to, don't they already have names? I can help them with Fallbrook, Crazy Larry, meet Smelly Pete. Psycho guy who makes odd gestures into the air communing with invisible demons, tip your hat to Tweaker Sally, the woman who likes to scream at Starbucks.

I feel a tremendous amount of compassion for those that are on the street after losing work but for so many of these people it seems more like a self inflicted wound. I have less empathy for those that would destroy themselves with potions or drink or have failed to take any responsibility for their lives.

I have been very poor in my childhood and even hungry, was laughed at for the holes in my clothes when I lived with the alcoholic, brutal, nazi stepfather and I learned early, the first rule in the universe is to wipe your own ass. No one is going to do it for you. Sadly, you are on your own in this world. Try not to crap on my stoop.

Throwing money at mentally ill street people is like pissing in the wind, it might make you feel better but is unlikely to get them to change their behavior in the long run. Or at least that is what I think. (Boy, do I sound pissy!) I hope they straighten out but wouldn't put money on it.

Catch you on a better day.