I have been reading this morning "On Contemplation" by Guigo De Ponte. I feel a little out of it mentally so I do not know if I can get into anything this afternoon. I have to get myself prepared for ten days of being absolutely alone in the world. I have to face the harsh reality my wife is not coming home till September the 10th. Of course maybe the Russians will attack Boston with nuclear weapons and I will not see her till the Marriage Supper of the Lamb. To me death can strike any moment. We are never safe from the Grim Reaper.
I have our house closed up and have on the central air system to keep our house cool. When I got home this morning and walked into our house it smell bad. We need to get new carpet. But we will not get new carpet till Rudy has died and gone to doggy heaven. Till then we will have to put up with the horrible smell.
Well I suppose I will close to face the man in the mirror. I see no way out.
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