Tossing Salt Presents:
A Day of Dougie
Ramblings: I Miss My Brother
DougMaynard.com
Doug Maynard

No straybies yet this morning. They’re running late. It’s 8:44 am on a Wednesday morning, and guess what? I actually feel good this morning. I’m sure it won’t last, but my head is clear, and while my fingers and hands are numb, it’s not as bad as it has been. I just did a Walmart grocery order, so I’ll get that Orange Juice I wanted, and lots of it. OJ and microwave Chinese food. And plenty of cat food. I’ll be set for a while.

Oh, by the way, my last weigh-in, I weighed 208 lbs. I’ve always been a fat boy, and I still have this belly, but my average weight was always 235-245 lbs. I guess this is one way to slim down, right? Dad bod with the great mullet. I’m getting there. Woo woo woo – you know it.

9:08 am, and two of the straybies showed up for breakfast. I put my hand outside the back door, and Fuego quickly brushed his head against my fingertips before giving me a look of pure disdain. And then he began to eat. Cats. Gotta love them.

And now, I’m getting tired. I have to be up at noon when the Wally World stuff should get here. Until then? That’s two hours away. I’ll see you in a little bit.

Now, it’s 8:30 on Wednesday night. I got my stuff, took my nap, and woke up to a very uncomfortable stuffiness. I checked the thermostat. It’s 79 degrees inside the house, no ceiling fans are going, and Ma has it set on heat. And it’s 80 outside. I switched it to cool, set it on 75 (still too hot for my tastes), and turned on both fans here in the kitchen. And I’m waiting for the fallout. She hasn’t noticed yet. But it’s coming. Believe that!

And now it’s Friday. It says Good Friday on the calendar, but this day has never been good for me. 38 years ago today, in 1988, my older brother, Jeff, took his own life. We were 2 1/2 years apart, and as big brothers go, he was the best. Our lives changed forever on that day, and I miss him. It was my first taste of senseless death, a bitter pill to swallow, and it’s never gotten any better or easier to comprehend. Along with Jeff, part of me died in that trailer that day. And even now, nearly 40 years later, it’s still a day of pain and hurt. RIP Jeff. I miss you & love you. Hopefully, I’ll be seeing you soon.

Let’s move on to some more meaningless nonsense to lighten the mood so I can wrap this up, go do some wrestling stuff, and overthink every life decision I’ve ever made over the past 59 years, while jamming out to the sounds of Jelly Roll, Struggle Jennings, and Yelawolf. Those three have become my modern-day equivalent of Alice and Waylon. Yes, they are that good. I think it’s a Jennings thing.

Ma hasn’t noticed or moved the thermostat yet. It remains set on 75 and cool. It’s tolerable. I’;d still like it colder, but it’s a healthy compromise. And I’m tired of writing. I feel awful, so I’m closing it up for now. Thanks for reading and for the continued support. I’ll try not to let you down.

Ubuntu!