May 20, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: May 20, 2025, 106°F.
Five years ago today: May 20, 2021, other temporary arrangements.
Nine years ago today: May 20, 2017, it’s a rock tumbler.
Random years ago today: May 20, 2012, Liz was special.

           Miami round trip, with favorable results from two doctor visits. Is it gas prices? Because I was to town and back in record time even keeping the Hundy below 60mph. Bottom line, today was concerned with medical checkups and I can’t make it more than that. The result is the end of an era, that is, the last of my ties with Miami soon as I can find local medical. I am now officially a permanent resident of central Florida. I’ll still have a trip or two over loose ends, but my 27-year connection to life in the Deepest South is over.

           Here’s one of the delights they don’t mention in the tourist brochures. Florida summer is also bug season. I had to pull over four times to clear the screen. Curiously, Agt. M and I texted, and why is that curious? Because I was using the $10 per month “church” phone and he is in Romania.
           Isn’t that something, this millennial-think phone service. I can communicate with Europe on a hand-held device, but cannot dial Canada because it is not “in North America”. You know how I feel about those who conspire to make money in this way, in case anyone has forgotten I am a plain-clothes redneck. You don’t work, you don’t eat, and sitting in Starbucks figuring how to shaft people on cell plans is not a real job.

           Tennessee is now in focus, with the guitar player calling about rehearsal. We finally have a slot, this upcoming Sunday. It won’t take much to get stage-ready, just ironing out a song list. Our initial stage time is just 90 minutes, enough to play 12 songs. It’s more the timing of the upcoming trip, the only one I plan to make this year for sure. Yes, I was talking on the car phone, as we once called them. If things don’t pick up, this will be one of my shortest tours to Tennessee ever. Relax, the money is the same but we got us a slowdown that is lasting this year.
           What happened with my checkups? Recovery, just not total. The results of my labs show a completely balanced condition, even if I don’t feel it yet. I don’t grasp the exact meaning but I read pages of printout all indicating I was within parameters with one historical exception. I still have high cholesterol—but it is half what it once was at my high-stress job. Then a check with my heart place who basically took one look and said I’m good to go. So I won’t see them again, and I have one remaining set of checkups in August.

           There you go, nothing spells recovery better to me than three docs saying I’m okay for three months, just check in. However, a conversation with my nurse practitioner leaves no doubt I will need a long-term cardiologist near this cabin. And I have not been successful in finding one in nine months of searching. But that was due to the waiting time for an appointment and unlike fou months ago, I am now fit to make that wait.
           On parting, I chatted with my practitioner, who had a surname I could not place. It was a Dutch name and I kick myself for not spotting that. Why? Because as a student of the Boer War, I should have recognized names like Koos de la Rey, the Lion of West Transvaal.
           I arrived early due to such light traffic, that I opted to drive back to the cabin rather than visit. Normally, I check in on JZ but he had some school plays to attend until late. Being still prone to fatigue attacks, I used the remaining sunlight to return home.

Picture of the day.
England’s largest vertical farm.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           There is no radio or nothing in the Hundy, which always gives me time to think and plan. Realizing I’m at a major life decision stage, I made it a long trip. I have misgivings about this tour to Tennessee, but it is financially necessary. I stopped at Punto Rojo for a sandwich and coffee. It’s got the most authentic café con leche, which I take without sugar. That’s one long story, involving a shopping district, a one-armed Argentine fighter pilot, and a coffee contest. No sugar, or I don’t like it. The story is buried in this blog somewhere, good luck finding it. These days, sandwich and coffee? $19.

           The Reb called, the album release is still timed for August, the amount of work put into this is staggering. My role is minor, I played no part in the music or recording, but my own future is resting plenty on this outcome. The one certain thing on this upcoming trip is we’ll make time for our traditional dinner on the town. She has been in that studio for thousands of hours and thanks to my condition at this truly important part of our lives, I land in the care unit. Life can be cruel.

           Meanwhile, all I want to do is stay put and get my therapy exercise building boxes. The medical reviews are great but I’m still plodding along. Tell you what, here is a picture of today’s utterly beautiful Florida sunset, with a storm brewing over the Gulf of America. This is facing east of Moore Haven, the coast is around forty miles over the horizon. That’s a wrap for today, but I did stop in at the old club to chat with Wilford. His photography is getting markedly more professional, I hope he makes a real success of that. The club was empty.
           Wilford is the guy who draws those super great chalk ads you see for daily specials. I have not found time to go in on a Monday and check his art show. He supplies all the art stuff and has also taken to run a pot luck dinner. Like myself, he will often “improve” store-bought items with healthy ingredients. But where I’ll add an egg and milk instead of water to muffin mix, Wilford makes up entire casserole dishes which would strike fear into those on a diet. He photos the ingredients and turns out giant size dishes. Well, free food—this puts a whole new spin on my sense of art appreciation.

Last Laugh