No amount of skepticism has been able to reason me out of the notion that what I can perceive with my physical senses is all there is to the world. Shoot. I don't even have words to describe my physical senses well, much less the perceptions just beyond my physical senses.

I feel Big Bro far more intensely this morning than I have in . . . Maybe forever . . . Somewhere around 1985, Big Bro and I attempted to rebuild hubs's 1971 Oldsmobile. That was the official name of the project, anyway. In my own heart, I was attempting to reach back to the mid 60's when Big Bro and I "engineered" our way around the abandoned barns which were our refuge from whichever abandoned farmhouse which was housing the Kiddie Whorehouse at the time. Rifling through the hay to find and collect the tools we needed for tinkering on the old equipment we found was more than a distraction from the rapes and mayhem of the night before. The resulting forts and contraptions were our cities of the future. There were even keys to our cities among the stale hay and chaos.

GS has been crying for "Mommy daddy come geat grampy fawm." Those "R's" still need some work. . . He got part of his wish yesterday. Mommy is still in the hospital, but Daddy and little sis made it up here yesterday. It was a medicinally peaceful night. Restful sleep was had by all. We are supposed to have sunny skies and 70 degree temps today.

Was dying just the fastest way for Big Bro to get here? Domestic drama between hubs and I prevented us from finishing our rebuild in 1985. Can we still get a do-over? Not much in the way of abandoned equipment here, but we have two barns to remodel.