Whoa I must have slept really hard because my neck is hella sore. Combine that with my upset stomach and I'm potentially a very grumpy Gurg. I'm not though. But that could change. Watch yourself. 

Heading up to Flagstaff today. Should be fun. May not be able to eat anything for the whole trip, but who cares? I'm a food camel. I can go days without food. I store energy reserves in my mighty hump.

Look it's me! 

Not now, tummy, not now. I'm working here. I'm taking some board games to the cabin. Ticket To Ride (Europe), Splendor, Haunted House what is betraying...wait Betrayal At The House On The Hill. That's it. And Dixit. 

I wonder how much weight I would lose if I didn't eat in three days? I'm pretty sure I consume about 2500 calories a day. I've also got moderate amount of muscle, which isn't cheap, biologically. 

I guess I'll find out. 

I've downloaded a few podcasts of This American Life to listen to on the way up. The boys have their phones so they'll likely be on those the whole time. What a world. 

I am in too deep. Wait, no, it's just a tidal wave. I'm at the same elevation, just gotta wait until the wave passes.

Grief needs a sponsor. There's money to be made.

Tomorrow, the boys and I head out to Flagstaff. It's a risk, them being teenagers and all. How will they respond to a road trip with a parental figure? Will it awaken their inner rage?

Maybe. 

Am I worried about it? I suppose I am. We've never had any major ideological differences. I'm much more pragmatic now in my old age. Or rather, I'd say I'm much more aware that ideals are for the person holding them, and the world in no way is under any obligation to accommodate them. There is no friction-less vacuum for practical application of ideas. And now here's a bunch of photos of my bamboo. I need to label these rascals. Also included is a fig tree.

Beware the caged bamboo! It bites, it fights, it scratches, it claws. The roots rise up and snatch your shawls!

Whoa, turned on the old laptop, started to write, and then it immediately shut off. Note to self: my electric field is shutting down the world. Smart.

I stayed up way too late last night. Watching Katla on Netflix. Solaris on ice. I enjoyed it. I don't enjoy being tired. Yet here we are.

Heading up to Flagstaff on Thursday with the nephews. Things I need to do: fuel up vehicle. Get snacks. Pack some clothing. Book a flight for next month for the wedding.

I forgot that I have a bunch of time off coming up. 

Oh shoot. I just canceled Watson's dog license. I had an impulse to renew it. My poor boy.

So much to do. 

Dancing hedgehog, also trained to carry snacks stuck to its quills. Spines? Porcupines have quills. Hedgehog quills don't detach but they're still quills, I think. 

Training a hedgehog is too difficult; I'll get a large rat and put a little snack backpack on it. 

That's my only big idea for the day.

My bamboo is growing well. Each plant has put up a shoot and one even has double shoots! It's very exciting. I should be taking pictures. I must love these bamboo clumps a little because I've been willing to do yard work for them. Nothing major, just getting out the weed-wacker and clearing the clumps of desert grass growing around them.

What is the shape of the prize?

Shade. Shade is the prize. 

There's a new weight-loss drug (well, a drug that is now approved in such a way that it can help weight loss) that helps curb your appetite. Fascinating stuff. Why, soon we may never need to feel hungry again, even when we are starving. 

I'm not against it. Biology is complicated and the human body has a hilarious sense of humor. Like how burning fat and getting healthy will make most people crave more and less-healthy food. And how the body can lock up fat and just never ever let it go. 

This drug is probably going to be very expensive also. 

But I'm not here to talk about drugs and weight loss. I'm here to talk about my profound struggle for meaning in a system that views me as a commodity. Are my very emotions part of this? All my desires, yearnings, dreams, hopes, romance, adventure, being cultivated by a culture that needs me to keep buying things without realizing there is no hope at all?

Jokes on them. No hope is when I have all the hope. Because of my depression, I think. 

I'm happy growing my bamboo. That's a good thing. 

My back is a little stiff. Perhaps I should hunt for a new pillow. Also stop lifting with my back instead of my legs. 

Yeah let's try the pillow thing.

I thought of something interesting. It's gone now. My bamboo is growing well. Clump Charlie put up two shoots at the same time. Crazy. 

I ate breakfast this morning and now I feel slow. My poor body is used to not eating any breakfast and now it thinks it's night, like throwing a blanket over a bird cage.

We're part of a secret society, you see. Why am I telling you? Because I'm not very good at being in a secret society. If I was in your secret society, I'd be much better.

There is much to think about. Much to debate. Ideas to take out and battle behind the old philosophy shed.

Many things. 

There is still a sense of loss. Of old injury that will never heal. It hurts less, though, and that is useful. Or perhaps the pain is the same, and I'm just bigger?

I can help people, I think. I forget that sometimes. I talked to my mom the other day. I'm sure she needs my help with something. My dad can do some stuff, but I'm still the strong one in the family. Surely something heavy needs to be moved about.

Bah. Bah I say. Not just me; the whole secret society says it. Bah! Like a sheep with a bit of congestion. Little bit of cud stuck in the old craw.