Going Home

 

    Going home.

    I was once told you can never go home. You can never go back from whence you began. Early next year I will be returning to that which has haunted me since the day I left. But it is not home.

    It's just the place that I report to others as home, when in fact, it's just the general area where I grew up. It has nothing of that which a home has. Any more.

    Children. Parents. Christmas mornings waking with the family.

    Stolen from me early in my life, I attempted to regather the pieces, but I didn't know how, I couldn't put it back together again. (A phrase borrowed from a First Fan.) I lost it a second time, and after that, I did the best I could.

    I have found myself recently less at peace with what has happened and more at peace that it happened. I'm accountable for the wear and tear, and some of the breakages. But not the theft of the pieces.

I Had No ...

    

    I had not recognized that I had not written in the calendar year of 2022 as yet.

    I had not known that I had not written until I was asked why I had not written.

    I had no answer to why I had not written when I had written in the year.

    I had not realized that other had noticed that I had not written until they mentioned that they were looking for my writings.

    I had no fans before I wrote my stories and now that I have fans the stories must continue to be wrote. 

Blizzard Entertainment - a Big Fat F.

    In September 2021, Blizzard Entertainment released Diablo 2: Resurrection. This was a game that a buddy introduced me to in about 2001 and we played many a late hour into the night this role playing game (RPG) It was my first foray into the "fantasy" world, and twenty years later, I returned to the remastered original game. On a Saturday morning I sat down to chronicle my return.

0900: Turn on computer, upload game, press play. Entered the waiting cue to access the server as player #238.

0945: Finally entered the game.

0946: Game crashed to desktop.

0947: Reentered the waiting cue as player # 132.

1016: Crash to desktop prior to entering server lobby.

1017: Reentered the waiting cur as player 78.

Approximately 1105:  Server converted me to off line play. Press online and reenter the waiting cue as player #314.

1215: Game crashed to desktop.

    After three (3) hours of "gameplay" I balanced my checking account, requested a copy of my credit report, finalized some end of month bills before they were due, discarded motor vehicle repair orders predating 2015, defrosted some frozen food for dinner this evening, and surfed the yachting classifieds for a replacement.

    Blizzard get a big fat F for their theft of US$60 for unavailable downloadable content. 

Home After Three Months

For the past three months, I have been ....away from home. This Memorial Day weekend is the first weekend that I have been home, since...Saint Patrick's Day

Home being the mailing address where my bills are sent - not the nation of my birth.

Very shortly, I will be transitioning into a new role, compliments of, perhaps the second most important woman in my life.

I'll be getting back to writing and recovery.

It Was All He Had

 

The following is a reproduction of an article that I wrote for the Fathers Rights Movement California State Chapter on 6 Feb 2021.

    My parents were divorced when I was young. As a teen and later as a college student, I'd occasionally visit Dad at the Army base he lived and worked at. On his desk were photographs of my brother and I but they were old photos...as toddlers, the first day of school - there was nothing recent.

    I never understood why.

    Come forward sixteen years and I'm divorced with two daughters. On my last day in Australia before coming to the USA, Dad took us to a fine seafood restaurant. At the end of the meal a photo was taken of the people present, including my Dad, my brother, and my daughters.

    Come forward another sixteen years and and the photo pops up on my Facebook memories.

    And suddenly...I understand why Dad only had old photos of my brother and I.

    It was all he had.

    The photograph taken at the restaurant was the last time my Father saw his granddaughters. It was the second last time I saw my daughters.

    Now, it is all that I have. 

Workmanship of a Writer

 

Uggh.

California is about to go back into lockdown as the Covid 19 virus continues to ransack the State. Not all Counties will go into lock down to the same degree, nor at the same time. This creates a situation for me as a writer as my residency and office are located in two different counties, approximately eighty (80) miles apart.

Eighty miles is a long way for a virus to move when everything is shut down. A secondary residency has been taken in a hotel where I can shelter in place for as long as needed without bankrupting the accounts.  Ideally, days at a time are preferred, not weeks.

My Father, currently located in a  state where the temperatures are reaching almost 50 Celsius, has ridden out the winter of the virus, but unlike Southern California, there are less people per square mile in Australia. Social distancing is automatic in a country of sweeping plains. 

The completion of works during this time has not occurred, not through failure, but with the occupancy of time by virus impediments, I would say that I written less this year than last.

Not the greatest workmanship of a writer when compared to Stephen King or James Patterson. 

I Care For

    Uggh. Has it really been over a month since I penned words to the blog.

    For those that came in late...

• The elderly parent I care for broke their hip while I was out of the house.
• The elderly parent I care for within seven hours of returning home sustained a heart attack.
• The elderly parent I care for returned home to hospice care to see out their days.
• The brother husband I care for succumbed to his medical ailment. 

    I have returned to my industry of employment prior to caring for the elderly parent. 

    The major project - which centers around the brother husband, now takes on greater importance. Come the day that his grandchildren sit on my knee, I need to be able to tell them about Grampa Joe.

    My duty to that family does not end because of a life extinct certificate.

    Somehow, I inherited my ex mother in law to care for.

    I'm not sure if that might be the second book. 

Lap 54, Day 162

 

Second half. 

As the California "stay at home" orders continue to escalate with the returning surge of Covid-19, the desire to write is,,,diminishing. It's not that I don't have the discipline, it's more along the lines that other than medical facilities, it's been five months inside the same room.  Some call it cabin fever.

I always thought that I could single handed sail long distances. Not necessarily a circumnavigation, but I thought I could do oceanic crossings, stay a while, continue on. Maybe I will have that ability one day but after five months, I'm no so sure.

Today I celebrated another lap of the solar system and head out again, without my daughters. In a conversation with my Father this evening I spoke briefly about them. He, the man who lost his own children, but regained them miraculously, was a better Father than I. I never regained mine.

Still, I had lasagna tonight as if they were here. 

Two Thirds of a Trilogy

  In the Covid era of "writing" I have had the opportunity to put more hours into my craft while I remain at home caring for a parent susceptible to the disease. While the parent has not been a 24/7 "needs assistance" patient, they are in fact a 24/7 "needs assistance to be available" patient. The writing has come in shift, waves, periods of activity punctuated by medical appointments and medication requirements.

  The major project has received attention, to the point, where it is now approaching the editing process.  Each day, there are events occurring which retroactively, affect the construction of the "major project" and could add additional chapters to the work. I have had an addition this week, that if included, completely alters the storyline of the project - and thus it has to be omitted.

  From this work. That's not to say that it could not be added to another major project.

  And thus begins the second major project of writing, a sequel to the first major project.

  I was once told that whenever you write a major project, be prepared to turn it into a trilogy.

  I have two thirds now.

Marooned Until Dates Unknown

  The Covid-19 pandemic is beginning to affect productivity.

  I sleep in shifts now, maybe four to five hours at most. I rarely maintain a uniform schedule, in part due to the elderly parent that I care for, around whom I have to work.

  The flights to Australia have been diminished to the point that should something happen to my Father, I will not be able to get to the county, let alone to him.

  I have, indeed, become "marooned" - as I have have so poignantly written about previously. I am now stranded with 354 million others in the United States of America. The advertised travel on my web site has all been pushed back until "dates unknown".

Citizenship

  There are moments in a life - defining moments where you can identity time, date and place, where a life changed. Birth. Marriage. Death. While there are many others, I have uncovered a moment that I had not considered before.

  Citizenship.

  Many years ago, I left my native Australia and settled in the United States of America. I would never yield my native country, as it became more apparent that I would need to take on another country.

  In the middle of the pandemic, my approval to become a United States Citizen arrived. Poignant. While there would not be the same solemn ceremony, it was a "make best" situation.

  At Cabrillo Point earlier today, I swore my Oath and became a United States Citizen.

  The ceremony was captured and later reported in the various media outlets.

  The San Diego Union Tribune captured a still and quoted me in their feature article.

  Later that night, I appeared on the Fox 5 San Diego news broadcast, and later on the NBC 7 news broadcast.

  And for the Spanish speaking community, on Telemundo 20.

  In Charlotte, North Carolina, the San Diego citizenship ceremony made the evening news. The story was picked up and carried across the nation appearing in Atlanta, Boston, Houston, Ohio, Georgia,   MSN, the Point Loma OB Monthly Magazine, and the Border Report.

  I am grateful for the well wishes, the supporters, and even the nay -stayers. This has been a long wait, and the next journey begins.

Adsence on Memorial Day Weekend

  I had not seen any revenue from Google Ads in almost a year before I logged into my Adsence account today. Front and center has an advisory that my "earnings were at risk, you need to fix ads.txt to avoid severe impact to your revenue."

  My site currently doesn't generate the revenue of a small country, but I'm planning one day to have a larger presence. For the time being, I have to modify an text entry to correct an ad.

  That sounds simple.

  No it wasn't.

  I have never worked with html, instead using a copy and paste method to stand up the blog site, that you are reading. So now I have to start modifying code on a copy and paste site?

  Can't stand having to modify adsence ads to correct an entry.

  Good thing I have the entire three day of the Memorial Day weekend and the California Stay at Home Orders to correct this issue. I'll need all that time.

Happy Birthday Chickybabe

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  Happy Birthday Chickybabe

  Today, my eldest daughter turns 31.

  When I was 31 her mother and I had separated, and I went on to my best "role" as the divorced father of two daughters.

  Now, I'm just the alienated father of the same two daughters that I haven't seen in years.

  Perhaps when they read the Book, they will realize that their Dad never left them. 

Day 54 Writting Material

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  Day 54. That was last Friday. I fractured a rib.

  I would love to be able to say that it was a result of some super human rescue effort, but alas, the reality of the rescue is more comical than expected. I fractured a rib reaching for the television remote.

  Over the back of the chair.

  On the floor.

  The sensible thing to do was move the chair and ergonomically collect the remote. No, I had to reach over and the sound of the rib cracking was heard, not only by me, but by another.

  There was no blog entry last week as I tried to establish how much damage was done. I could breathe - that was a plus. I was able to stand and sleep, but the moment I got into the car the following day, that's when it started. The Doctor at the Urgent Care that I eventually got to (the following Wednesday) confirmed the splintering of the rib by X-ray.

  "Nothing we can do to help you," she said.

  Why did I bother to go.

  As an author, this would be my first "writer injury", that which was incurred in the execution of writing duty. I should be awarded a purple ink pen.

  This week, the writing slowed down as the crevice that is inside me bruised up with the fractured rib.

  The only bonus to come from this is that a second work I have written has the protagonist in isolation for almost a year. Now, they too have a fractured rib.

  Writing material from Day 54.

Good Friday and an Easter Remberance

     Easter was a (mostly) enjoyable time for me growing up.

     As a child, it was school break, traveling on the longest weekend of the year, and with the autumnal weather, cool enough during the day and warm enough at night to sleep.  Later, I found myself in the servitude of the Church during the Easter celebrations, the mostly holiest time of the year.

     As a teenager, Easter changed. In 1982 my father, drove north to Laguna Bay where my brother and I sailed in our first major regatta.  We were rank outsiders, two young kids, unknowns. Not surprisingly, we were robbed blind after the final race. We drove home that weekend with a new focus. I would go on to win seven (7) titles, but nothing would ever erase that memory of that Easter.

   What I remember the most of that Easter was the weather. Old enough to remember, it would become the blueprint for all future Easter regattas I attended. Raining, wet, and despite the autumnal weather, cold enough during the day for hypothermia and not warm enough at night to sleep. My father would launch us off the beach, have warm food for us on our return, and relaunch us in the afternoon. He did more for my sailing history than I could ever thank him for.

     Here we are, 38 years later and the weather in Southern California this Easter weekend reminds me so much of what happened at Laguna Bay. The rain, the coldness, the thievery and the subsequent follow through. I am feeding two sick patients, albeit, not at the beach in the elements. However, I am currently on day 28 of isolation from Corona virus with the same emotions back then - there is nothing I can do to change what has occurred, but I will never let this happen again.

     Easter was a (mostly) enjoyable time for me growing up - I hope I have more enjoyment that this.

Fifteen Minutes At A Time

  I have established that, at best, while working from home, that I can work for a maximum of fifteen (15) minutes at a time.

  It's not that I lack the concentration or focus to enable me to perform for several hours.  It's the needless distractions that have to be attended to which limit my output, to fifteen minutes at a time.

  Today, I woke and sat down at my desk. Booted up the computer and during the morning email review, checked on the elderly parent that I care for. Thus endeth the first fifteen minutes.

  The dogs barked fifteen minutes later. Check and verify that they are barking at the wind.

  The cat started bitching about something. Get up and verify that the cat is just bitching about nothing.

  The landline telephone rings, it's a scam caller, so naturally, the elderly parent answers it.

  That's the first hour. I've risen four times for outside distractions, broken the train of thought and been distracted from my work.

  The second hour. The dogs again. Fifteen minutes later there's a truck driving by that makes a loud sound; and the dogs go apeshit. The usual swearing and cursing at the dogs hastens their retreat to the elderly parents lap. I no sooner return and the elderly parent is moving about in the kitchen - investigation required. Fifteen minutes later, there's a door slam inside the house - elderly parent has taken to their bathroom.

  While the current health situation has put a lot more people to work in their residency, there are a couple of thoughts about this. If we can work from home during a health issue, why can't we work from home after the health issue? The roads would be freer, the commute time would be reduced, people would still be earning an income.

  And then the dogs bark again, this time at a leaf falling...three miles away.

  And now I know why people go to their corporate office.  It's not so they can accomplish any additional work, it's so they are not working fifteen minutes at a time distracted by ridiculous home matters.  Far better to be distracted at work every fifteen minutes by the phone and loose two hours of your day in the commute back and forth, than to stay at home and complete the same volume distracted by..leaves falling every fifteen minutes. 

How To Work From Home in a Pandemic

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  Across the United States, employees are being told to "work from home" as an attempt to stem the flow of the Corona Virus, CoVid-19. As people do so, they are some techniques that can be employed to ensure that you actually accomplish "work" while at home.

GET DRESSED
  You wouldn't report to workplace in your pajamas, nor should you report to your home work station in the same clothes you slept in. While you may not exercise the same dress standard as the work place, getting dressed is a psychological tool to differentiate between being at work, and working from home.

HAVE A PLACE TO WORK
  Even if you have to clear a spot at the dinning room table, have a dedicated work station. Sturdy chair, flat surface, lighting and ventilation are the hallmarks of establishing the invisible boundary from home and work. Coaches, beds, and floor space are not work stations.

KEEP A SCHEDULE
  Your mind functions better if it maintains a schedule of events. If you are an office worker with office hours, maintain that schedule while you work from home. Your employer will still need to reach you, your co workers will need to collaborate with you and your subordinates will still need to report to you. While you may no longer have to clock in and clock out to the minute, don't be the guy who misses the video conference because you weren't "at work".

MINIMIZE DISTRACTIONS
  This is, in my opinion, the most important. The access to you by other family members may be taken for granted, or that movie you haven't seen may be starting in ten minutes. When you are "working from home" you're no longer available to attend to the domestic chores or ask, and a television should never be on in your work space. It is too tempting to be distracted b the comforts of the home when you should be working.

EXERCISE
  In the workplace, you walk between offices, the lunchroom, maybe tour the facility in order to get your steps in, or to stretch out from your work station. Maintain this approach and ensure that during your "work day". that you try to maintain the same level of physical activity. Walk the dog, leave the car in the garage if you have to go outside, but make allowances that let you continue to exercise. Long hours sitting at your desk and hen flopping into bed is counter productive.

   There's a method to how I work from home. I maintain the same schedule: rise, breakfast dress and report to my work station prior to 7am. Email are no more than 15 minutes as it's too easy to be distracted. I break for lunch at noon every day and return about 30 minutes later. Around 1.30pm I get up and walk the dogs, come hail, rain or shine. Returning about 2pm, I check emails one more time and write till about 4.30pm. There is no television near my work station, although I have a CD player I occasionally put on low volume.

  Jacob, the cat, is my sole co worker at home, and I often engage in workplace conversations with him. Though working from home can be a solitary assignment, there is no reason why you have to be "alone".

A Blog of Choice

  It was announced in September 2019 of a new web site that was coming.

  Since 2007, I have maintained a writing presence on the web on the matters affecting my writing. From 2007 - 2014 those writings were "housed" by one entity, until they suddenly closed. The web pages which captured the moments of writing for that era were lost, and exist only in a cached state.

  After the closure of that site, I then moved across to Blogger to continue the writing. At times, the writing has been sparse, as those who know of the personal life walk with me through the darkness. But it has sustained the writing since 2014 for the moment when my writing reaches a larger audience, and they become interested in from whence did I come from.

  The new web site is fundamentally the same as the existing web site, but it now offers the option to include a blog.

  Being a little "gunshy" about the prospect of losing years of bloggings - again, or having to start a new blog - again, I am unsure if I should "trust" that aspect of the new web site.

  For the time being, Blogger will remain the blog of choice.