Autumnal Thoughts;Rest-less Equinox

The After-Work Pain became remarkable around 2000.
Only marginally, at first.
Of course, it had been there since the Wreck…but it had been unremarkable, tolerable, until then.
It became Acute and Widespread, in 05, after 5 weeks of Produce Department.
A year later, I reluctantly Retired altogether.
I went from 4 days, to three, finally to one.
My days as a Bohemian Chef were over.
My days as an Employed Person,
were Done.
Having developed a habit of Bruxist Tenacity,
I Soldiered on as Househusband/Farmer/Dadda/Field-Hand….Diminishing steadily.
The Off Hours spent in Feral Scholarship, and a slow emotional breakdown.

Early Days of this Process of Disintegration, there was an irrepressible urge to Live, while I still could.
Canoe, Fly Fishing….also Diminishing, as my Skeleton Rebelled.
Replaced by Drink.
Six and a Half years of wrangling with the Empire, frustrated at every turn.
Trying not to think about what I was Losing, and purposefully avoiding any Hopeful Thoughts about what might come after, if I ….Miracle! …Won my Case.
Since there’s no Medicaid Card currently in my hand, I am still reluctant to Speculate.

….But I can’t help it.
I hate the very idea of Surgery.
Especially Hip,
And more especially Back.
Will it be a Second Chance at Living?
The Lame Walks again?
Bow Hunting with the Kids?
Will I Perish?!

Or merely less Misery, more restful sleep,
Perhaps an occasional Evening Walk?

I doubt seriously that I will ever work for someone, again.
I’ve lost the habit of interaction, and of taking orders.
Self-Employment, for me.
Maybe a Digester Manufactory, or something else in Alt Energy…
….but perhaps that is being too optimistic, Re: Rehabilitation….
How about procuring a used Smart Car…one of those little Euro-Things, all boxy, and efficient…
Mason’s first Cabby….for all of the Old People, and Carless Folks, to get to the one Grocery Store…

Of course, I still have the majority of the Café Equipment and Paraphernalia….
But I don’t see myself launching headlong into that, again…instead, a One Night Stand, Saturday Evening Affair…Reservations+Ad Hoc, Prix Fix, Chef’s Special, with a Side of Culture.
On the lot next door…with an Orchard and Herb Garden, Wandering Geese and Chickens.
And a rather large Nekkid Statue of Artemis.
Hire whatever local-yokel, but NonCountry(GAC!), Music Types I can find…
Pole Barn Palapa. A Parisian Café, meets Jovita’s.

I’d hafta remain strictly Back of the House;
One cannot Undo such a Withdrawal, in a day, or a year.


After 22 years, what is it like, to be without Pain?
Is that too much to Hope for?
I’d settle for less.
And for a trip to the Real Grocery Store being Less of an Epic Ordeal.
The first rough half of that Epoch, spent furiously Sucking what Marrow there was…knowing all too well the likely Trajectory of the Injuries…
The last, Lamenting the Losses, while stubbornly clinging to a semblance of Relevance,
of Agency.

One gets used to life as a Cripple, however unpleasant, or painful.
Chair to Chair,
Automatically calculating distance, grade and difficulty,
Including at least minimal recovery time in one’s travel plans…
To say nothing of Thoughtful, if not brilliant, Adaptation to Poverty.
I don’t know if I can manage a Garden, next year.
The promised Imperial Largesse(Ha!) can’t come too soon.
At the very least, Novelty.
Some small relief from the incessant Boredom.
I know every contour, and protuberance,
every nuance and stain on the drywall,
every lump in the mattress,
a connoisseur of the Pillow, and of the Art of Nest Building,
of Carcass Propping,
and of being very Still.