Photo copyright Aji, 2024; all rights reserved. |
The two days of rain at the end of the week have sent the grass and weeds into overdrive. It was still too wet to mow this morning, but tomorrow might be doable . . . if it's not too hot, too windy, and otherwise too overloaded with other work. Likewise, the spruce cones are no longer purple, which means they're starting to mature; they're now light green. And with that many? What must be some kind of record? You'd think it was a sign of abundance, right?
Nope. It's a sign of drought.
That's how they reproduce when there's not enough water to ensure their own survival. We've lost the other big blue spruce already, plus a number of other conifers, weeping willows, red willows, and seemingly countless aspens. No amount of rain will bring those back; all we can do is try to save what's left, but the drought persists.
And that's not the only kind of drought.
Our sales have been abysmal for months — for the better part of a year now, actually. And that has to change, because the rest of this year is shaping up to be as costly as the first half, and that first half has damn near killed us.
The chimney cleaning is tomorrow. I've already paid the truck insurance, and a year in advance on our new Web host [unless we wind up having to upgrade to more space, in which case it goes up by another $400]. No chance of replacing my dying laptop, not with four figures' worth of medical bills coming up this week and next and next month for all the imaging I now have to have done. The stress of all this is what's killing me now [and the insomnia [no sleep last night; none], and the pain, and the fear of what this other thing might be]. I keep saying that I refuse to entertain the notion of the new pain and other symptoms being anything other than autoimmune complications, but that's getting harder to do know that I know that suppressing my immune system isn't stopping them. It's already abundantly clear that reverting to the proper chemo dose has accomplished exactly nothing on that front, and that's worrying in the extreme. It's clearly not muscle or bone. Yes, it could still be all lymph, but given the location, that in itself isn't exactly without worry, either. And the persistence of the pain and other issues . . . well. Meanwhile, the expenses won't wait.
- Sales here;
- Testimonials here;
- Amazon wishlist here (apparently the FlexTape is also the priority now, so I'm told; otherwise, Amazon cards and the filters for the air purifiers [if you need our physical address for the filters, let me know]);
- Patreon here;
- Ko-fi here.
After such a grim year, this one already even worse than the last, we really need to get 2024 onto a better footing, so please share all of the links.
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2024; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
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