NOTHING

You might want to travel in a one-horse open sleigh.....or maybe not.

(My AI pic)

 I'm watching the news - - marveling in abject horror at all the catastrophically stricken places that got 90 feet of snow, minus 75 degree temperatures.....and massive 852 vehicle pileups on ice-laden highways - - where they shouldn't have been driving in the first place.

And here I am, imprisoned in RehabHell, in Gainesboro, TN. Gainesboro (on Saturday) received about two inches of snow. This morning (Monday) there was another inch.

Total: three. Inches.

The temperature is frigid. Today, a daytime high of 18 degrees (Fahrenheit). Tonight prediction of five degrees

Gonna be cold all week.....probably no...snow.

A problem has befallen on me (what, only one??).

My secret stash of Walmart food is nearly gone. Because of the inclement weather, Walmart won't be delivering until Friday or Saturday.

I've been eating canned chili (from the can), canned roast beef, and....of course, tuna. And peanut butter.

Instead of bread, I'm using tortillas. 

Cookies? I still like Keebler's chocolate-covered shortbread cookies with peanut butter. And Fig Newtons. Without peanut butter.

I would stash more, but my duffle bag isn't big enough.

I'm freaking out in this friggin' P.T. Rehab Prison, and it's no exaggeration. I don't trust anyone here. I fear that they will never let me out. They suspended my physical therapy, probably due to insurance reasons (that's only an uneducated guess). I'm in a profound depression.

That's why I keep writing these....blog....posts. It helps me maintain whatever is left of my sanity.

I'm not only depressed. I'm afraid. Of losing my freedom and sanity.

An Aside:

My roommate's insufferably talkative wife hasn't been here in two days, due to the bad weather (YAY!)

BUT

The nurses keep the curtains open. My senile (no exaggeration) gloommate keeps pulling the curtains to watch me (BOO!). Today, I tried to pee in the urinal and he kept gawking. So I didn't pee. I don't want to complain. I have enough problems.

It's just incredibly creepy...... and damn infuriating.

Everything in this godforsaken place is.....INFURIATING!!!!!

Jon, thoroughly disgusted

Sorry, I'm in a very BAD mood

BEWARE!

Beware! A super-mega-stupendous winter storm of the century is descending upon us, with the dire possibility of a metorological Armageddon and the probable potential of a recurring Ice Age!

I'm merely echoing what the media has predicted. I meant no harm. And I'm nearly certain that they had no intention of causing a harmful mass hysteria.

Some might mistake my spontaneous sarcasm as a crude mockery of a dire situation.

It was only my innocuous way of showing how the media can perpetuate sunami-sized suppositions.

I had no intention to offend.

My readership is dwindling.

People prefer to read blogs containing safe subjects that they can relate to, like "My begonias are blooming."

They don't care to read things that might harbor dire underlying connotations.

I'm admittedly an enigma unto myself. I have always marched to a different drummer (I read Thoraeu's "Walden" when I was sixteen).

I never wanted to be cookie cutter sameness, or drearily mundane, or run of the proverbial mill. I abhore conformity. 

It might seem unnerving, but I'm glad that I am who I am.

Okay, let's get serious.

The upcoming winter storm is supposed to be massive. I've heard that it will effect more than half of the United States. That's frightening. Snow is bad, but ice is worse. Power outages can be devastating. Driving on ice is impossible.

I'm actually glad that I'm not at home. My furnace is electric. If there's a power outage, I'm doomed.

When I lived on the high plains of West Texas, I learned that the winters could be surprisingly brutal. One winter the night temperature dropped to four (4) degrees (Fahrenheit). And my furnace wasn't working! I was truly terrified that I wouldn't survive.

I put on several layers of clothing, grabbed lots of blankets, and slept on a futon near the fireplace with my cat Kitzee. The fireplace truly saved us.

Kitzee, getting warm by our TX fireplace

Right now, here in Rehab Hell, in Gainesboro, TN, it's 18 degrees this morning. The storm will arrive at noon.

Speaking of snow storms

There is a painting that haunted me ever since I was a child. The artist was Charles Christian Nahl (1818 - 1878). He was a German, who came to America and lived in Northern California for 30 years.

Here is the painting

The Dead Miner, 1867

The gold prospector is frozen to death. His faithful dog is grieving. There is a mining pick and gold mining pan near the miner. He clutches a photograph in his hand.

This painting always has a profound impact on me. It is absolutely heartbreaking and perpetually haunting.

Another painting, while I'm at it.

My parents moved to Southern California when I was six.

We often went to Knott's Berry Farm in Buena Park, which was a reconstructed western ghost town. It was designed  and owned by Walter Knott. He and his wife used to grow boysenberries and sell them by the roadside.

Knott's Berry Farm was fantastic when I was a child (and admission was free). When Mr. Knott and his wife passed away, the place was sold. It's now a gaudy amusement park.

Knott's, when I was a child

In one of the buildings in Knott's, there was a very large painting that mesmerized me. It was called The Night Watch. Every time we visited Knott's Berry Farm, I went to see the painting. I absolutely loved it.

This print doesn't do it justice. It is much more beautiful in real. It was said that the woman's eyes will follow you. That was true. Everywhere I went in the room, her eyes seemed to follow.

I never knew who the artist was, and couldn't find out. It wasn't until I was near fifty, when I learned the artist was Charles Christian Nahl, who also painted The Dead Miner.

The Night Watch is now in the Orange County Museum of Art.

Amazing that I loved both paintings since childhood.

I'll end now, because I'm having trouble with Blogger. I initially wrote this post last night, but it was deleted - and I wrote it again this morning.

Stay safe, warm, and cozy.

Jon,  hopefully not frozen

MY PRIVATE DISASTER

It's not a big disaster. Only a small one. Not worth writing about.

I'm going to write about it.

In all hospitals, health care facilities, there's a bedside table. On these tables are a pitcher of water.

Here's my pitcher. If you people are still awake and alert, you might notice that Cookeville Regional is emblazed on the pitcher. I'm in Gainesboro. Don't know how that pitcher got here.

Anyway

I keep a duffle bag on a chair by the side of my bed. Half of the bag contains my medical supplies. The other half contains my secret stash of Walmart food.

Get to the point, Jon. You're losing readers.

Three days ago, I was moving the table. The pitcher - which was freshly filled to the brim with water - slid off the table.

It hit the side of the bed, then the lid came off and the pitcher landed directly on my duffle bag - - which I instantly learned isn't water proof.

duffle bag

Almost everything in the bag got drenched. A new box of Kleenex. The bread. My package of Keebler's chocolate covered shortbread cookies - which I love with peanut butter. Soaked and ruined.

As if I didn't have enough problems. 

Fortunately, my bed is right next to the heater - and the bag dried rather quickly. Sort of.

Talking about heaters, it was 12 degrees (Fahrenheit) last night. 25 degrees today. Snow storms are predicted for next weekend.

I'm tired of giving medical updates. Xrays of my ankle wound were taken a week ago - - and nobody here knows a dang thing about it. The clueless people running around here scare me.

Yesterday they gave me a buccal swab, a cheek swab. DNA test....among other things. What the hell??

My guess is they want to determine that I'm a Hungarian male....not a Polynesian female. Can't be too sure.

Hungarian?

Well, I figure if there are African Americans  I can be a Hungarian American. According to my ancestorial research, I am 100 per cent Hungarian.

Proud Magyar. Cigany lelke. Soul of a gypsy.

Possible healing

When a wound care nurse changed the bandage on my ankle today, she said it looks better and isn't draining.

I'm never optimistic, but it seems the antibiotic is working.

The blinding afternoon sunshine is streaming in my window, making it difficult to see (I write on my cell phone). That's when I get migraines.

My roommate's wife, The Champion Talker, just left. She talked all afternoon - - on her phone, then some of her friends came, chattering like a flock of agitated fowls.

Thank God for my ear plugs.

Sunshine in the window, five minutes ago.

These are spectacular cell phone photos to enchant you.

Every day I am more severely depressed, worrying that I'll never walk again and possibly never get out alive. This facility isn't helping me...it's helping to destroy me.

I wouldn't want to convey my true dire emotional state on a public blog.

I try everything to eradicate my depthless depression. I pretend that I'm okay - - but I'm not.

Well hell....change of subject

As usual, I'm still collecting antiquities from Egypt. I buy them from an Egyptain archaeologist who lives in Canada.

Am I crazy? I have unique obsessions. I've had that in my entire life. My newest acquisition arrived today.

You have already seen my ancient Egyptian amulet, the Holly Owl, Symbol of Wisdom, in my previous post. Today I took some better photos.

Ancient stone carving, excavated near Luxor, Egypt.

I like the whimsical face

The owl has traces of Egyptian faience, a quartz-based glazing ceramic that was used frequently in ancient Egypt. Copper was added to produce the distinct blue/green color.

And now my latest acquisition. I couldn't resist. It arrived today.

An ancient stone hand-carved figure of the cat Bastet, Goddess of Pleasure. This large stone carving doesn't have the faience glaze. It came from a wealthy man's private collection. It is confirmed that this statue was  made before 1700, but no definite century has been established. Probably not ancient Egypt, but it's a very old antique. It has been cleaned and was carefully maintained.

It is large and very heavy. When I opened the box and unwrapped the statue, it was ice cold - due to the frigid weather. Fortunately it didn't crack or break.

It's really an amazing and unique discovery. I absolutely love it.

Hope you're aren't bored.

Well, heck, wanna see my ring?.....and part of my fingers

It's a blue/green opal. Not my favorite ring, but it's the only one I have here in RehabHell.

Thanks for reading this....

Jon, 💙 miserable but unnervingly unique