had a bad dash last night, by bad i mean it had some sitting, and didn't make a whole lot of money. the money wasn't a problem; it's been great all summer and i can generally easily make what i need with four or five dashes a week, and i've been doing six. so a low tuesday doesn't ruin my life at all.

but the sitting was an issue for two reasons: one, it's getting cold, and two, the guardians were losing to the yankees. nothing to do about either one. i can shut my car up, and, having worn fairly warm clothing, can be ok without turning it on, or, i can do like other dashers and simply leave it on. i don't like leaving it on. i'm not especially cramped or uncomfortable; i kind of like it out there usually. last night it felt a little odd.

i'm finally organized enough to have some idea of what i need to do when i wake up in the morning. a lot of these things are everyday things. i market my books, on twitter, facebook and elsewhere. i keep track of my numbers. i make quaker pamphlets, and organize the ink, the printer, the paper, etc. i try to do some writing and many days can't even get around to doing it. i answer my son's calls and go do his bidding - i take him meds and get him what he needs. sometimes this constant interruption prevents me from doing the rest. that is the case today. and by the way, i try to keep up on these blogs. twelve a month - this post doesn't count, since i already got this blog this month. just write, that's my idea. if you can't do the writing, that's ok, but put something here, that'll keep you going. that's the hope.

more later, off to do meds.

i tend to get caught up in my kid's dysfunction. They can't seem to get theri shower running properly; that's two round trips, one to bring a kid here, one to take him home. they live out of the casey's - that's several times a day, and way too much money in the process. it's just how they live. i end up being the driver.

i would have long ago said, you do it yourself, but for my wife's insistence that, because they are disabled, they really need a hand. and in many ways they do. they can't hang onto money for more than five minutes, so they're often hungry. my son went through years unable to walk down the street; my wife accepted his explanation and it was clear he was uncomfortable in his own skin.

now from my point of view it's a matter of limiting the damage. when can i work, when i won't be interrupted? when can i carve out a few hours to do what I want? my life isn't really all that bad. we have enough money, enough food, enough of everything; i can't complain that they are taking food out of our mouths. and in fact, most of the money, as far as i can tell, comes out of my wife's retirement income which is substantial and which i really have no interest in controlling anyway. so it's easy enough for me to say, go ahead, spoil your son if you want, it's really between you and him anyway, even though to some degree i'm aware that spoiling a kid does him no favors. it's a tragedy but one i lost years ago and which i have no interest in reviving in hopes that maybe the odds will change. they won't change. as long as i'm here claiming he should make his own way, she'll step in to make sure he doesn't have to. to her recognizing his disability is first and foremost.

that may sound bitter, but in a way i'm saying that i accept it; i don't really know from disability, and i'm not in a position to tell her how to do it really. i have my feelings, my prejudices, built up over years of raising others and watching people, but they don't necessarily apply to someone who can't do basic functions that we all take for granted. such people should end up in institutions, you might say, and you'd probably be right, but this boy will at least have a childhood, and the feeling that he had the chance to live on his own and make his own way. what will he do when we're gone? he asks himself that question too i'm sure but it doesn't make him more able to do what he needs to. and the same goes for his friend. nobody is out there making them more independent, and they can only do what they have learned to do, which in most cases is not much. they've learned to be dependent. they're good enough at it that they are still alive.

in writing i'm steadily drawn into the era around the turn of the century (1900) when i find my great grandparents doing interesting things. i study them to pull together the background and the information from their families. it's part of my quest to really learn as much about my ancestors as i can. i was doing the language book for a while, but got bogged down and i have to write what i'm inspired to write. i hate forcing things and in fact can't seem to do it. if i'm stuck on something it's better to put it down for a while.

one thing i do have to do, however, is make sure i sit down to write every day. the blogs should be part of this; in fact, they are, to some degree. but i go days sometimes neglecting the blogs and everything else. i get caught up in my hearing issues or in my son's court drama, which now thank god is resolved. i get caught up in their stuff. i'm too easy to pull out of my chair.

nervous before a big trip to pekin this morning. up early, before five, dressed and had two cups of coffee already. it's about a fifty minute drive; we'll leave here at about 7:45. my son has a court appearance but the particulars are settled; he's paid the fine (we paid the fine); he took a driver's safety course and can prove it. all that remains is to have the judge free him from warrants.

the whole experience turned him into slightly more careful, more responsible; he doesn't want to have warrants but on the other hand he's a little not ready to take full responsibility. it's a gradual process. enough about him. the daughter also wants to go to hanna city; that's almost just as far, same southwest side of peoria. she thinks we can just go there whenever we want. on demand. on her demand.

it is gorgeous out there in the countryside. the back roads to hanna city take me through three towns, maquon, yates city, and farmington, and last weekend was yard-sale weekend. i didn't know how much they coordinated, but i found out. in farmington was a lot with about forty tents. perhaps people from the countryside came, rented a tent, set up their wares, and sat out there all weekend. the best i could figure it was lots of houseware, glass, china, etc. of course that's what shines in the sun as i'm driving by. one place had an ancient car and another had some very old desks. but i already have very old desks that i can't get rid of.

in fact i'm purging all kinds of stuff; it's been around too long and causes too much hard feelings. even in cases where my wife has as much as i do, she knows what she has and wants it there, whereas mine looks like big piles of junk to her. from my point of view, stuff i save i save for everybody, like old electronics, charging cords etc., and everybody at times comes back to paw through it. there are things though that i save for myself, like stamps and old postcards. and i'm sure they look like junk. but they're not, to me. i'll purge the deco. i have no need for deco. christmas wreaths, old cloth pumpkin-men, etc. one more year and i never put any of it up. what's the point? someone at the thrift store can enjoy it. pay a quarter and take home a whole armload of it.