In light of my most recent example of knuckleheadedness, a faithful PressingPauser was moved to write me. “. . . let me discourage you from jumping off a bridge into polluted water.  This is in the category of photoshopping a picture of oneself dressed up like the pope.”

“More a reflection of feeling trapped,” I replied, “than just my baseline stupidity.”

Caring for my ailing wife day in and day out also has me daydreaming about taking some walks. I’ve been spending some of the rare quiet moments researching the Appalachian Trail, the Camino, and the Te Araroa. With a small backpack and no fixed timeline.

Mostly what I long for is what Jeanette wanted Saturday evening after watching Alison’s high maintenance pup for a week while she was in Chicago. No responsibility.

Nobody depending upon me for anything. For a long time. In the hope of healing.