83…

Been an aggravating thirteen months. Been cut thirteen times going from 70 – 83. My legs look like somebody put their cigars out across these tiny twigs. 

Thursday, Doccutfirstaskquestionslater took stitches out of 82 and then cut a little more out of my left twig. It was no big deal. Pain in the ASS. Truth. 

Scotch/Irish genes were not meant for Kansas summers. Yet my doc’s say this can’t simply be too much sun. Mystery. Sometimes in life it makes sense to fixate on why sh#$ happens. Other times it’s best to simply accept that sh#$ happens. 

So, next time it seems you’ve stepped in some, keep going. Learn what you can and keep moving. We’re all dealing with something. Most of us don’t know why. It just is.  Keep fighting. STOP struggling. Remember, life is poison and wine. Bitter and sweet. These past thirteen months have been pretty sweet watching Aedán, Daisy, and Vivi growing right on up. Refocus, Chet. Refocus. Yeah, baby it’s been some kinda freakin’ magic, you know. Damn.

Live hard. Love ❤️ harder…