Turkey Thursday

Does a day make a difference? Hardly. Today is Thursday, January 16. Am I yet in a state of total don't give much of a damn? Yes. Last evening it was good to laugh along with the two new Duck Dynasty episodes, especially episode two with the references to the comedy movie Nacho Libre. It was good to hear again from Tina Howell, wanting to make one of my photographs into a canvas print. The honor and yet the sadness that I am not being paid for my efforts all at once. But nice to hear from her. Mrs Duncan my neighbor is in a bad condition at Shands in Gainesville with sepsis. I saw her son as he was about to go down this morning, all in tears. That bought on my tears as well. Mrs Duncan and I would meet often out front while she slowly walked Tippy the little weiner dog and we would talk, she mostly of family and all the hardships she and they have undergone. It breaks my heart Mrs Duncan has had such suffering.
Melanie has the biopsy results pending to see the outcome of it, whether the toe is cancerous or benign.
So our current calm could about to be again set adrift. I feel my lack of working or finding a decent type work will bite us eventually, leaving me to have to live with my sister or something, losing the house and all.
I see it.
Started back after a lull in reading the daily read the bible in a year in Psalms 40, which spoke directly to my condition. Then today, I do not read. I am a terrible priority setter. I do not blame the poor souls of the twenty-one days away from Facebook. I find myself as well going to it over and over, checking updates, seeing if anyone has messaged or liked. Quite engrossing. I can only image the pull for someone who has hundreds of such comments and likes to respond to.
Though I am not in the total state of depressed like yesterday, today is like a undercurrent, just a quiet desperation of Thoreau proportions. I check the jobs daily on Indeed and indeed, daily the jobs are in fast food and or jobs way beyond my qualification.
I had a gun debate with Stacy from our church. Things like her saying she hates guns comes out of the blue. Things you never know about people you assume, since her husband is in the military and shoots at the range, would be the last person to hate guns.
Perhaps the people on Facebook will help her to not have such a hatred. To me her argument, that her parents never allowed guns, even toy ones, is silly. I suppose if you approached anything from an early age and spoke in detesting ways of it, you would grow up hating knives,spoons and forks, depending what you threw your hatred toward. Typical liberal parents warping the next generation.
Well, about time to go over to my sisters and help her re-arrange her house some. See ma and how she is, take my mind for awhile off our troubles and sorrows and woes, though trivial, small and mostly unfounded.
It took all of thirty minutes to move the bed from downstairs to upstairs. Then I was off and back to the house. I see that once again blogger is acting up and photographs will not transfer directly from Picasa. Jordon is back from Allison's seeing Carson and Melanie is onto him about his room.
Like Duck Dynasty last night, I think we will have Jordon here into his thirties.