Select Page

Working up to my 50th birthday, I decided to stop digitizing the rest of my old files — if anything was that important, I would have done it by now. It’s not a lot, just enough to add to the filing cabinet, which uses far less drawers worth of stuff than it used to. Between my father’s death and an admittedly arbitrary milestone of age, I think it’s time to seriously be myself on a new level.

I treated myself to “Three Dog Barber” in Lancaster for a “King’s Beard” and “Gentleman’s Cut” and it was worth it, though shortened a bit too much for Merry. Our bedroom has been remodeled with inherited furniture and replacing the rug with floor rugs after repainting the centenarian-plus floor. Merry finally has the car of her dreams after many years, a green Kia Soul, thankful they didn’t change the design.

I’m slowly reinventing myself as an author and publisher, but am oddly more consistently busy than ever in Kentropolis. My business-versus-personal time is more organized and balanced, with the exception of playing video games a bit too much. I knew I shouldn’t install “bricks and balls” games on my phone, as much as I wandered away from Ingress since they changed the interface and graphics so much. On my birthday, Mojang released the update to Minecraft I’ve been waiting for, and I’ve come out of that closet by posting a video and some screenshots of the game for the first time on Facebook.

I didn’t go to Grand Lodge this year — I just didn’t have a good feeling about traveling as such. I even have Mer drive most places where usually I’d grab my keys. I keep thinking it has something to do with my Dad and healing grief, but can’t put my finger on it.

But it’s been a rough week for us for various reasons, including having lost Berta and finding days later she was hit by a car. We’re down to two cats and a dog, and have considered finding a kitten — especially one that could grow up with Hazel — but are going to wait for Divine Providence rather than actively looking.

In general, I’m just glad we’re coming into summer, as much as the humidity is already bearing down on me here and there. I feel a constant tinge of mortality these days I need to work through. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life worrying about squandering it, fully aware that to some extent that would be a self-fulfilling prophecy. When I’m done as Master of my Lodge in a few weeks, I will take a sabbatical of sorts, though at this time I am unsure what that will mean.