Go figure that I have such a hard time getting here.  My great scheme of trying to get here every day sure was thrown under the wheels of the bus.  A few thousands cars ran over it and backed up to make sure they got it again — sideways!

I’m busy.  I can never nail down where all my time goes but it just disappears. There’s yard thingeys to do, food to cook, dishes to do, writing to do, trips for groceries, lace it all up with a few hours of sleep every day and there’s nothing left over.

I hope that within a week I’ll be ready to start slapping paint on the exterior of the house — and the trim which has to be primed first.  The trim is too dark to cover with the new color I want so it has to be hit with primer.  And, of course, I’m still trying to finish caulking everything.  I’ve worked on that a few hours every day for the last three weeks.  A few bad weather days slowed down some of it.  This house is old, lots of nail and screw holes and window/door/foundation trim that has to be caulked to keep the rain from running down into all of it. I’ve had a few gushers in one window in particular when it starts raining heavy.

The weather has been very livable — not the kind that I would go try to do a desert walk at noon — and the only downside is that it will soon start getting dark at around 4 PM. I really hate that part.

On the life side of things, one of my ex-brother-in-laws passed recently.  He was only in his early 50s and had cancer.  We didn’t stay in touch over the years but one of his brothers and I did.  The downside is that my son Darian was sort of shuffled out of existence by the family because DAD chose to completely ignore the fact that he had a child with me.  I never pursued him for child support.  I did ask in a letter once if he would take the time to get to know his son — no response.  That segment of total human stupidity is in this post…now you may ask, “Whose stupidity?  Yours or his?”

At the point of the letter, it was his.  This was a son that he chose to ignore since we broke up about 37 or so years ago.  People do the stupidest things and then one day, it’s too late.  You never get another chance.

I feel badly for my son, in the fact that the people that should have made it a point to open their hearts and lives to him didn’t.  Now one of them never will.

One of my great nephews is having some very serious problems.  I worry for him.  He’s a kid. I can think towards the positive but it doesn’t look good.  Now I wait to hear how his stay in the hospital is going.

*****

I received notice by email today that the WSOP is accepting applications for media credentials for the November Nine.  This is my first year of not applying since the Nine started.  I blogged about last year and how sitting up in the press box at the Penn & Teller Theater just ‘wasn’t’ a good place to be and how most of the media found something else to do if they weren’t seated down in the audience because there were only three to four people up there with me.  Previously you couldn’t find a place to set up your PC unless you got there early.  I ended up going to Gary and Marie’s place and watching it up close on time delay — in a comfortable chair — with friends — drinking wine.  How can you beat that deal?

I have been playing WSOP.com almost daily.  It’s working. I’ve regrouped and started to climb back up the bankroll slide that previously was spread with vaseline and razorblades. Time to cash out a bit and keep grinding.

*****

Lot of bullshit going down lately with my buddy Riot and momparental.  I had three of my grandkids weekend before last, Breck, Kate, and Riot.  It was a great time except for one interruption from momparental that prompted me to turn my phone off for the night.  Riot was almost in tears after she had one of her hissy fits on the phone and demanded that he write certain words 60 times each. She loves to catch him out here having a great time and then shower him with her own anger as she tries to run complete control over what he does at my house…of course she’s drinking or on something. You’d have to be here to see how hateful and mean it really is.

Her idea of love is some strange, twisted existence where the object of her love is going to have to buckle up for a bipolar ride from hell most of the time.  Riot has a half sister that is 28 by momparental.  Riot and sis get along fine, but sis doesn’t talk to mom and hasn’t for a number of years. See…it’s not just me.

I’m out for the night. And a new View from the Box is up.