"Time and the hour runs through the roughest day" (Macbeth)

.....There was a time when I could tell anyone what day it was.  There was a time when I was able to drive my car.  There was a time when every day was unique.  There was a time when I was motivated to write.   If I don't write something, I get depressed.  I'm depressed anyway.  I want to burn my walker. My ears are all stuffed up from the time I went to the Hyperbaric's.  I don't go there anymore, and I don't plan to do so in the future, although I do miss the silent, peaceful time I spent inside the tube.  The only pain I have to deal with now is the sore on my heal.  I have an appointment with the Wound Care Center doctor.  We'll see what he has to say.  If he tells me I should hyperbaric it, I'll demur.  The wound has gotten a lot smaller I will admit.  Now it's about the size of a dime--actually a little smaller.  I have come back a long way battling the issues from my hip surgery.  And during this time, I have written many posts on my blog and turned them into published books...eight of them. The latest is titled "Condo Capers" for no good reason.  One of the "capers" I suppose is the early bird.  As far as sex is concerned, as a caper, this is Huntington Lakes; no one has sex here.

.....Today, RH-- and I went to the Festival Flea Market to sell the sterling silver flatware she's been saving for no good reason. Silver was $40 an ounce today.  The newspaper has ads all over the place  asking to buy gold, silver, and a bunch of other things.  I often wonder whether or not these vendors know something.  Anway, I imagined that her silverware would garnish about $150.  I didn't know how much silver was in sterling.  It's pure.  She got $1880 for it.  I was stunned!  When I first got engaged to my ex, I ought to have asked people to give something in silver to us.  Who knew?