Posted on November 19th, 2014 by Scraps.
Categories: Badness, Boring Posts, Life, Stuff.

I'm howling. Literally, I just spent fifteen minutes just howling. This is normal now; I just don't talk about it, except maybe I should.

I'm damaged, but Velma stuck with me. She understood me. Now she's gone. I'm alone. Every day, I'm silently in misery; I'm howling, but there's no one to hear, and even if there was, they'd leave (not that I'm mad about leaving; I'm grateful for every minute my friends and family spends with me).

I'm damaged. I'm alone. But mostly, Velma's gone. She's gone. We were going to spend the rest of our lives together, blissfully. We talked about what would happen if one of us died. It was an uncomfortable subject. I said, especially after the stroke, that I wasn't sure I could make it without her. That distressed her, and she always made me promise that I would at least try.

What reason should I live for? I know that eventually the hurt will ebb. But what should I live for?

I'm trying, Velma.


can't let the last post stay up on top

Posted on November 19th, 2014 by Scraps.
Categories: Life, Memory, Recovery, Stuff.

Every time I choke up.

Helen (Velma's sister) called yesterday as the day was approaching the end. She told me that Velma's New York memorial had gone well, and she told me specific things that made me feel good, as much as possible.

Velma, she said, would say it went passably. I laughed. Laughs are [few and far between]*.

*Myles [looking over my shoulder].

1 comment.

happy birthday, velma, somewhere

Posted on November 18th, 2014 by Scraps.
Categories: Life, Memory, Stuff.

I can't believe that you didn't make it to 52.



i didn't know that!

Posted on October 27th, 2014 by Scraps.
Categories: Boring Posts, Life, Recovery, Stuff.

Sure, grief is natural and proper, but it's healthier for the survivors to move on.

--a writer who usually says more sensible things


five years to thirteen

Posted on October 9th, 2013 by Scraps.
Categories: Dance, Life, Memory, Stuff.

I forget. This is a every-few-minutes thing of my life, now. I forget trivial through momentous, concepts to vocabulary, schedule to, to, to.... I forget.

But this. sigh....

October 6, 2008: Five years (and three days) since my stroke; since my life changed utterly. (It's true.)

October 7, 2000: Thirteen years (and two days) since Velma and I had our first date; since my life changed utterly. (It's true!)

And Velma forgot, too. (Figured maybe we had too much to do with moving.... or something.) We will do something in the next few days!


congratulations chip!

Posted on August 20th, 2013 by Scraps.
Categories: Life, Science Fiction, Words, Writers.

I just realized that Samuel R. Delany has now been a published novelist for 50 years (The Jewels of Aptor, 1962). Gee! I just had a conversation with him three weeks or so ago; I wish that I'd thought of that to congratulate him.

He was my favorite writer as I passed from adolescence to adulthood, and his writing colored my theories about dealing with life and people. I was fortunate to stumble upon science fiction fandom* -- the writing part, not the movie and tv part -- and somehow, David Hartwell and Kathryn Cramer got it in their head that I would be a perfect houseboy** for Samuel Delany, who needed one to take care of his mudane life while he worked his very late book.

So I went. I should have written down all of it; now, it's faint, except I was very happy, and amazed. We talked constantly, and I felt stretched; I wish I had a teacher like that. Chip -- which everybody called him -- was frank, penetrating, the most intelligent man I know, and, especially, was perpetually fascinated; he said that everybody was interesting. Ever since, I tried to keep that belief.

I'm grateful for many things that were, really, random, but they happened to me young enough that they shaped me.

* thank you, Patrick and Teresa.
** some people snerk at this. whatever.


ten years' plus of files equals a lot

Posted on August 19th, 2013 by Scraps.
Categories: Boring Posts, Life, Stuff.

I've got two new 2 TB drives, because my old 1 TB drives have been filled up. Now I've been transferring files. Um. It takes a lot of time, apparently. Dum de dum dum . . . .

Carry on. I'll be back.


first time success

Posted on August 18th, 2013 by Scraps.
Categories: Life, Stuff.

There is a small gym in our apartment complex. I have wanted to make use of the stationary bike, but I kept putting it off. Today it seemed like a good day to stop putting it off, with my depressed state and all. So I went down, accompanied by Velma because I can't put my foot into the pedals (and Velma also likes various equipment there).

Sometimes in the past with different stationary bikes we couldn't put my foot in the pedals; they would fall out repeatedly, or my foot would kick the bike repeatedly, and no matter what we tried (like rubber thingies tied around my ankles, etc), they would fail. But. This bike, after ten minutes of adjusting, worked. I just had to concentrate on my right foot and not let it wobble. The only embarrassing thing is, I had to let my right hand fall in to my crotch, and let it stay there. Well, there are many embarrassing things about my condition; this is a minor one.

So I biked for five minutes at a little bit hard setting; by the time I was done, I was profusely sweating. And happy. Then I biked at a easier setting for five minutes more, just winding down.

Oh -- This is a relatively big apartment complex; say, 200 apartments, something like that. And it's a small gym; really an exercise room, I think ten machines. You would think it would be very busy. But it's the opposite. We have passed the exercise room many times, and Velma has used it three times. In all that time we have seen two people using it. Otherwise it's empty. Weird.

Anyway. I am now cheerful. And tired. But mostly cheerful.


depressed moment*

Posted on August 17th, 2013 by Scraps.
Categories: Badness, Life, Recovery, Stuff.

Every once in a while -- well, really, every day -- I read Twitter (for instance) to catch up on my old friends, and someone is writing about bike-riding, and suddenly I can feel it so much . . . I will never ride a bike again.

So many things.

Well. Then I pass on, thinking of something else. You can't dwell on it. But you can't make peace with it, either. (At least, I've never learned.) So think of something else.

* You can skip this.


aarp! say it with one syllable

Posted on August 12th, 2013 by Scraps.
Categories: Life, Stuff.

I joined AARP (I'm 49*, going on -- wait for it! -- fifty). I got my card this week.

Now, I've been looking forward to getting my membership for a long time, before my stroke. I figured that getting old was a triumph. I prepared for old age happily, as far as one can; I don't think I would have been scared or, well, you know, suddenly got up one day and realized, my god, maybe I'm old! Better get in my second childhood pronto.

But the stroke happened, of course, and my old age was forced on me before my time. Therefore I wanted to have my official Old Age card, pin, cufflinks, merit badges, et cetera, now. I've waited for five years for this. Now AARP has welcomed me [with open arms]. It feels good.

*Which is my favorite number, by the way. 49 is a square and it's also made up with two digits (4 and 9) that's also squares. Fun!



Posted on August 5th, 2013 by Scraps.
Categories: Life.

Okay, I'm back. No, really. (Is anybody there?)

Velma and I have moved, to a sweet apartment in Bitter Lake. (That's a neighborhood right around Aurora and the north city line.) (Did I mention we've moved -- two years ago -- to Seattle?) This apartment is small, but it offers a dishwasher, garbage disposal, washer & dryer, many closets, free gym, lap pool, and a building young enough that the walls are thick, to the point where you can play music pretty loud at three AM. Oh, and we have a 5'x7'x9' storage space, in our floor, about thirty feet away, for $35.

Of course, if you know Aurora -- it's one block away -- you know it's pretty seedy; and like I said, it's small. And it's up on the fifth floor (we have a elevator) -- the top floor, which means, hot. Can't have everything. But we had to move in less than a month, so we feel we got lucky.

I've got lots of things to write about, and {I've still a very slow writer}*, so I've decided (for now) to keep it short.

* p.s.: This { } indicates that I know my post-stroke English is wonky, but I can't spend the time (several minutes, most likely, {or even never}) to get it right.


  • Make me an offer, I don't waste them now.
    - Scott Miller