First real snow of the year

Below is my selfie from playground duty last week, before the freeze set in.

November 16, 2022. Okay, it may have added up to an inch. There was never any accumulation on the roads or sidewalks. The Holy Spirit youngest charges quickly rolled up the remains of the last two days into primitive bases for a primitive potential snow man. I wore shorts for my walk there today, then schmoozed with Betty Van Asten, Kris Sprangers and Kay Woelfel, after clearing matters with Mike and asking Elise Schreiber to watch the house while we are away in Spain for ten days and to get five of her classmates to sign up to assist me in my CYO basketball duties, starting Saturday 4 December, five days after we return from Spain.

And I continue to gain weight, primarily due to a lethargic, sedentary, refrigerator proximate lifestyle outside a steady stream of three miles of walking daily. While I have seriously upped my walking mileage estimate for the year -- from 850 eight months ago to 1165 today -- I will probably weigh close to 230, well above my Wyoming running days weight around 155-160.

It is a Groundhog Day-like, almost vicious cycle of Holy Spirit activity, a three-mile walk, multiple meals and snacks consisting of high carbs, dairy and some salads, and a night on the CPAP, where I am constantly hitting scores of 98 or above, taking few middle-of-the-night potty breaks, and getting what generally seems to be a "good night's sleep." I say "generally" because while I don't take many naps now, I don't feel very refreshed at dawn, even with eight hours of low-episode (<2.0 per hour, often <1.0) sleep. In truth, I feel achy, old and stiff, making staying in bed to watch an online Mass or a string of Facebook reels pretty appealing. It's hard to put on socks easy in the morning, so add this feeling, this inability to bend, and the darkness and chill of rapidly approaching winter, and I have PCF, or Pre Cabin Fever. And I am destined to continue to bloat.

As for good news, the market has rebounded a bit from the 2022 loss of all my gains from 2021. I get a good jump, in percentage and in absolute dollars from Social Security, and expect something similar from my TIAA annuity. My Medicare and supplement costs should remain flat if not lower. Inflation, topping out near 9% earlier this year, does not hit us that much, with food and gas being quite small portions of our budget, and no debt to secure or to service. I just need to better manage our numerous subscription services, and that includes house cleaning and Dena's club membership, not just Apple, Prime, Netflix, Paramount Plus and HP.

So the joy of life after 65 continues, plagued most by boredom and as else of purposelessness outside of Holy Spirit, and that mission makes me weary and at times feeling even more purposeless. That plus the late-night-eating-induced vivid dreams, primarily about old academic issues -- skipping class, failing courses, failing to find the classroom -- continue to haunt me too many nights, along with weak memories of women from fifty years ago, including Nancy Galli and Mona Margarita at the forefront.