Had three dreams last night. All long. All vivid. None worth recounting here, although I remember them all. They were just me living. Seems a good sign to dream. They mostly come during REM sleep, which is the good, sound sleep. I do feel refreshed this morning, ready to get on with the day. My last batch of laundry last night waits in the drier for me to fold and put up. I also need to empty the dishwasher which I left full of clean dishes last Wednesday when I departed for Marathon and music.

I was thinking I might power wash the garage today. Seems an opportune time to get it done. The porches need it too, but the swallows are still in residence, and they’ll just poop all over the clean deck before they leave in September for South America. There are swallows in the garage as well, but there are other cleanliness issues that need addressing, and I’d like to address them with my sleep aided good attitude.

Of course, I woke up with a really sore left ankle which I attribute to the shrimp I ate for dinner last night. I believe the ailment is gout and it bites me every once in a while. But, with boots and good socks and lots of water I can work through it. My coach would be proud, if I had a coach, and this was a game, which it’s not. It’s just life and sometimes pain is just something you need to endure, and no one is going to be proud of you, because it’s just something we all do to varying degrees, and we do it without expecting a pat on the back.

John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale