Aces over eights

I am passing through episodes of approximately 30-60 seconds of 10 out of 10 pain. Passing through as in stepping into the light mist of a gamey perfume -- and out again -- a delicate lunge, a tantalizing twirl into the rank emanations of owwwww -- and out again. Et ainsi de suite.

Ten out of ten: I have maintained that such a score would never be attained (by me), precisely because of what it is supposed to mean -- the worst pain imaginable.


The worst pain imaginable? Right off the bat, dès le début, I have issues. My imagination, a well-conditioned muscle, really should not be invited to the party. As an undergrad, I chose to satisfy my math requirement by taking a course in logic -- taught by a former priest whose defrocking story was mythic. I went on to almost major in medieval philosophy. Probably would have afforded me a more lively job market...

Professor Ryan made it so that this can never be just the issue of ten... because there is also the issue of zero.

In between the waves of ten are times of seven, eight -- there where I normally subsist. Ach, mein gott.

My good sense is floundering.

Fred, in Fred's goodness, is pulling chauffeur duty again this coming week. Monday: Dr. Boutiqueur, followed by Dr. PainDude. Tuesday: ID-Man and the Infusion Center Gals. Wednesday: Repeat Tuesday, plus see SuperTall PA to Dr. ShoulderMan.

Then ring in the damned new year.

Lindsay Wagner looks like death warmed over -- a great thing for a spokesperson for the Sleep Number Bed -- drab from head-to-toe in browns, a testament to verbal sepia. I am not so much sleep-inspired, looking at her, as worn out.

We've shut ourselves up in our little apartment off the roomy kitchen in the East Wing of Marlinspike Hall. Holed up. Huddled in seclusion. Not that there is anyone from whom to hide. The Castafiore is out driving Miss Daisy crazy, as we call her Sunday evening shenanigans. The felines are nowhere to be found. They did not appear underfoot at the sounds and smells of Fred Cuisine, which normally finds the trio circling our feet much as might three tiny sharks.

Three little *land* sharks, that is. Sly. Cunning. "Candygram!"




I have slept only four hours since Friday. The details before that are rather sketchy. I've not been fun to be around and seek to correct that moral failing.

Wa Hoo. Yee Haw.

There.

My mind strays -- you may have noticed -- and I smile, thinking of my friend Diana-with-an-H and her most recent trip to Deadwood in South Dakota.

I love Diana-with-an-H. She totally *gets* me and chooses laughter as the best response to most everything. Well, that's probably not totally accurate. Better to say that I've yet to see a sad circumstance that could control her hilarious nature. Combine that with a good heart and, yep, you've got an exceptional person.

From time to time, she feels the need to gamble. To get the hell out of Dodge. {insert a westernism here} Do I live vicariously through her? You betcha. I don't believe that I've hit 10 on the pain scale since thinking of her, happy out in a snowstorm, soaking up history, and sharing it with me -- far away, wimping out, all whiney. What a gift! Here follows her email to me -- that she scribbled upon getting home -- knowing. You get that? Knowing!

(I'm so far away from ten. I feel it and I don't. The smile of friendship, even the memory of the smile -- wipes it away.)

We made it home safe and sound. As we were throwing our bags and sacks in
the house, I was putting everything away and already have a load of laundry
going...

Rapid City was crazy with shoppers today.. We just hit three
stores and all had to do with Hunting... Cabalas-Shields-Blackhills Archery..
and then we were on the road.. too many people.

Last night, we had the
coolest trolley car driver who was giving us and another young couple a history
tour of Deadwood....

It was snowing so hard and the wind was blowing
that we jumped on the trolley car going the other direction, just to get out of
the snow....

He was talking about the Adam's Family. He was a merchant
in DW that made a ton of money and built a Mansion back in the 1800 and it still
stands today.. He also gave DW the money for the Museum. with one condition..
they never "charge" anyone to see it....

The road going to his Mansion
is also the same road to the Grave yard were Wild Bill and Calamity is buried...
You can go on tours of the Mansion also....

During the small pox break
out.. that Calamity helped with and also, every person she took care of.. did
not die.. however over 300 children died during this break-out.. and all our in
the grave-yard....

Wild Bills' Wife, who he said 'was the love of his
life" was in a Circus when they met and was said she was very pretty... Wild
Bill was only in DW for 6 weeks when he was shot...

His goal was to get
rich off of the gold in DW for his wife and him... He met Calamity in Cheyenne
WY and they both signed up to be "out-riders" for the wagon train bringing
supplies to DW... (out-riders rode ahead and checked the trails and looked for
Indians and problems)

It's said that Bill admired Calamity for her
Courage and he always tipped his hat to her....
But they say she grew up
very poor and a very rough childhood and she was built like a Man for those days
and also she never took a bath....

They say she left DW for three years
and came back with a 7 yr old child, a girl... well.. she was still such a drunk
and cuss and filthy.. that the State of S.D. came in and took the child away
from her..... She told everyone this was her child.. but the timing did not
match.. so they wonder if she might have found this child stranded.. no one
knows for sure....

They also said the Sheriff Bullock Never Once had to
use a Gun to take someone to Jail.. they said he stood 6'6 and had Gray Eye's
that looked right though you... they said he was a huge man and huge shoulders
and huge Hands..... big big Man.....

Some of the books say Wild Bill and
Comity were Lovers, but this was not true.. she said he was her "best-friend"
and she loved him but not in the sex way...

Wild Bills wife came to DW
and saw his grave and thought about taking him back East.. but decided this was
his final resting place and he needed to stay there. That was the one and only
time she was there....

This spring, lane and I are going to go to the
Mansion and Museum and Grave Yard... so I'll be sure to get pictures....

We were talking about the show DW and this guy was telling us how much
history and a lot of things are True or close to the truth of the real story....

He was telling us some kids went and stolid the Last Chinese Head Stone
two months ago out of the grave yard.. but they got caught and it's been placed
back on the grave..... So that's good.. also very sad....

We were
talking about it being BAD KARMA to steal from a grave yard... gives me the
creeps......

While we were on the trolley car.. I was thinking of you
and how much you would LOVE this and the stories being told....

So..
wanted to tell you about them before I forgot......

Christmas Day I had
Prim Rib-Ham-Scalloped Potatoes and fried shrimp.. Last night was Prim Rib and a
ton of Crab Legs... Yummy.....
Tonight.. Mom's making chili....

Okay.... Hope things were nice and quiet and pain-less as could be for
You.....

Good Night... Love Dianah

Pain? What pain? I am all smiles.