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I was battling high and low blood pressure for two days. Today I finally leveled out at normal again. That cuts into my ability to read and write every day. Will get back to normal… I promise.

I miss her mightily. Two months now she is no longer a part of my daily life. Today a visit to a urologist yielded a diagnosis of prostatitis and two antibiotics that it turns out I am allergic to. I threw up everything inside me at about four o’clock this afternoon and spent at least ten minutes with the dry heaves. So, I had to call the doctor about it, and new meds will be on their way tomorrow. And I am sick as a dog. She would’ve licked my hand in sympathy, as she did so often, and looked at me with worry in those big brown eyes. And then ate everything I threw up because I was too weak to stop her. But all I am left with is the ghost of her. The memory of her. The illusion that she’s still here to care.

Retired doesn’t mean “tired again,” or you are moved backward into a rocking chair on the porch. Retired means you have a new set of wheels on your go machine and many new places to go.

**You should note, this portrait was done entirely with digital tools. The background had AI assistance, but my hand drew the picture of “Retired Guy” entirely.

The AI Mirror version would have looked something like this;

This book is my most popular seller once again. Somebody bought another paperback copy with color pictures in it.

Walking for heart and joint health, I take off every morning at about 7:00 a.m. In this part of Texas at this time of year, it is the time when the sun is just coming up.

A new day. A new dawn. As with the beginning of your life, it should be entered into completely naked, completely open, and immersed in the great wide world. Of course, if I try to walk in our park nude, I will get arrested almost immediately. There is an elementary school on the other side of the stand of trees on the right. Besides, I am old and vulnerable to the cold and too much direct sunlight. So, I took the picture with my phone and later made it into a cartoon. Poppy and Dewey are my imaginary walking partners. They can be naked the whole way because I alone can see them.

I am a dedicated nudist. I love to be naked in nature, though my days of being nude are much more limited than I would like. Health problems and other peoples’ ideas of nudism prevent me.

Every new dawn is a celebration. It is an unexpected gift. And each one I collect now, at this age, is precious and priceless. It is a gift I have somehow earned. As the turtle told the panda, “That is why it is called the Present.”

‘Twas my intention to the next chapter done today. But only the work on the illustration happened. I have been sick on the weekend and slowed to excess. I am in poor health and writing no longer happens as fast as once it did. You can see I did not get the red cheeks spots added to the illustration. I made it from an old role-playing game illustration of one of the characters I am now using in the story.

I didn’t get the AI Crocodile Guy done either.

I tried to draw him by tracing the photo on the Digital Drawing Pad with a regular stylus. But the AI messed up my rendering of the eyes of both Steve and the croc. Bummeroo… I mean, Crikey! So, the chapter will hopefully be done and published tomorrow… a day late.

I am back on top now. My blood pressure is under control, having finally leveled off due to the newest medication the doctor put me on. I still have pain and symptoms to worry about, but I feel far better now than yesterday.

My balloon is now rising again. New ideas. New hopes for the future.

But how do you tell a story like that?

How do you describe the balloon going up? How do you mimic the lift of firing up the burner to heat the air and truly rise? How do you explain that the girl in the white bikini looks like she is only wearing underwear? And she isn’t even your girlfriend, and you will never ever kiss her. But you are happy to have her there? And it’s a good thing?

You give it time. The words will come. Not just the right words.

The perfect words.

Well… so far, no heart attack or stroke. I guess I am still alive. I am still free to draw, paint, and make a mess. However, using a touch-screen datapad and a stylus does not even make as much mess as colored pencils.

That is not me in the Paffooney, of course.

Today was a high blood pressure day. I was within 8 points on the systolic number and 17 points on the diastolic number of needing to go to the emergency room. I am the age now that my grandfather was when he had his second heart attack. And almost the same age as my great-aunt was when she had her first stroke. So, I have been resting and eating carefully today, thinking about being dead from either of those possibilities. I took my blood pressure medicine this morning before the problem started. And I had pressing business to attend to today that will now have to be done next week. Today’s Paffooney is of me as a boy sea ghost in honor of my morbid thoughts. It was drawn with digital art tools, a previous drawing of a sunken ship, and a little bit of AI Mirror. My last BP reading for today was 152 over 81, still high, but much less concerning than before.

This one has ghosts in it too, but they are snow ghosts.