Jan 8 Why

He who has a why to live can bear almost any how.

Friedrich Nietzsche

I was thinking why do I write this journal. Do I ever think it will be read by people out there? No, I write it because if I remember to keep the website paid for.

I might want to read it. Long after my memory has been ravaged by time and disease. Thats if I live through another year.

I have something growing on my thyroid, my lung, my kidneys and I am sure other places.

I do little things and I am completely fatigued.

Today I fed the cats, gathered snow started a fire, scrounged around my woodwork shop for scraps of wood to burn. Then cut up what could be cut, stomped on the thin pieces to break them up.

Today I woke with a very sore neck, actually above my neck. The mass of muscle and nerve at the top of my spine hurt. My thyroid hurt bad. I also had another bad coughing fit.

Walking was difficult, especially through deep snow, stairs and obstacles.

I just filled a gas can for the gen. Yes, I brought a new carboard box for the boy cats. They love them, and over the next few days I would tear pieces to help start the fire. I save them all summer just for that. Until that they would explore, inhabit, sleep in and tear it apart. It would all end up in the fire.

I filled the kettle with more snow. Coffee would be getting here slowly.

I could just fire up the camp stove, but no. I have one filled small can of propane, twenty empties.

One of these days I would refill more. Not today.