I persist. I'm enjoying hot soup on this chilly morning. Thanks Sharon. Planetary climate alteration has us fried one day chipping ice off the walk the next. All part of this new world war random city slaughter and 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 I looked after aging elders. We loved them so. That, and at work I accidently became a department head. Shows to plan engineering shifts to assign. Radio station internal warfare to fend off. ...drawing Queer comic books too when I had the time.

Now I just wake up, and well... I mean for a while I took classes went on long walks taking photos. Adjusted to relative poverty. But I think I'm now retired from most of that as well.

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