As you who are following this website now know, I had surgery just a few days ago. The odd thing about going through things similar to that is the fact that I come back home with the best of intentions. One of those fleeting, and quickly diagnosed as a “no-go,” was the intention to schedule when I would write here. I looked at my brain, in the way most of us do and said, “Who are you trying to kid, brain?” My brain is like that, coming up with superlative ideas that aren’t going to fly because of who I am. Oft times in life my brain has said one thing and I did the other, to my own peril. Broken legs come from not siding with one’s brain.

Now, who I am even I am not certain of and if we’re honest we don’t actually know who we are until stress builds like a rogue wave and bowls us over and leaves us sputtering on the beach spitting sand. “What just happened?!” is the oldest bromide ever uttered. And, in every language we’ve ever come up with!

So, my brain’s statement to seek order with my being just fell flat on its invisible but ancient face. I believe my brain is the same age that I am so one might think it would know better? Nope. It just keeps coming up with ideas which, had I ever followed them further than dining room to kitchen, I would be a wealthy guy. You can’t have everything, I suppose.

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