"...I persist"

I'm enjoying hot soup on this chilly morning. Planetary climate alteration has us fried one day chipping ice off the walk the next.. All part of this pandemic world we've lived into.

Tho' it's years now. I'm still not used to life since retirement. There's mostly no place I need to be.

Before I had serious responsibilities. My care-giving era. My sister, and Looked after aging elders. We loved them so. That, and at work I accidently became a department head. Shows to plan engineering shifts to prepare. Radio station internal warfare to fend off.

Now I just wake up, and well... I mean for a while I took classes went on long walks taking photos. 'Did art stuff, and such, but I think I'm now retired from that as well.

As I told my former shrink, "...I don't understand the world or seem to belong in it." Like my grandmother who was born at the end of the 19th century. She lived to see us fly go to the moon the beginnings of full Civil Rights. That, and Queer Pride parades, and the early digital age. Like her I feel a stranger in this even stranger land. Like that book's title. "Still I Persist in Wondering"