Tuesday, October 21, 2025 – Day 434

Tuesday, October 21, 2025

Good morning, all!

Yesterday I mentioned Ordinary Grace, the book that showed up in the mail. As it turns out, my cousin Mark already has the same book sitting on his table, waiting to be read. What are the odds we’d pick up the same title at the same time—especially since it’s been out since 2013? I’m looking forward to diving in once I finish one that’s ahead of it on my list: Look Closer by David Ellis, our current college book club pick. Robyn invited me to join—usually she’s shooing me out of the feminine circle, so she must be softening. So I need to be prepared and not blow this opportunity. The book’s still in Amazon limbo, but I need to have it read by Saturday. No pressure!

Back in the spring of 1980, when I was slumming at SIU after moving home from Portland, Oregon (that’s a story for another day), one of my escapes was Giant City State Park. It was the perfect place to unwind and forget that I wasn’t exactly “studying.” Plenty of high school friends were down there too, and they kept me entertained—sometimes at the expense of our GPAs. Sorry, guys.

Giant City has a rock passage called Fat Man’s Squeeze—a narrow corridor of tall rock where you literally have to turn sideways, breathe out, and pray you don’t get stuck. I remember inching through, pressing against cool stone, having a mini panic attack, and trying to push the walls apart—which, of course, made things worse. The harder I pushed, the tighter it felt. My mind raced: What if there’s a tremor? What if the rocks shift? I had to talk myself down—slow breaths, one exhale at a time—until the trail widened and I could finally move freely again. I swore I’d never do that again. And I haven’t.

Last night, though, I got a flashback. Something must’ve gone haywire while I was asleep and hooked up to the ventilator. I woke up feeling like I couldn’t breathe and instinctively reached to yank the mask off. I just wanted that one deep, clean gulp of air. But then the rational part of my brain kicked in: Don’t panic. Just breathe. Slowly. I could hear the respirator cycling—inhale, exhale—getting louder and more forceful as it tried to match my uneven rhythm. After four or five cycles, it steadied, and so did I. Within moments, the panic passed, and I was breathing normally again.

I’m glad I didn’t rip off the mask—besides waking up Cindy, I’d have made the machine angry. It throws quite a tantrum when it’s running without a connection. Instead, I let the white noise of its steady rhythm lull me back to sleep. Let’s hope that doesn’t happen again anytime soon.

For dinner last night, we went to Bonefish Grill with Mark, Barb, Joe, and Donna. It was a really nice evening—low lighting, quiet atmosphere, and (for once) manageable background noise. I didn’t have to fight to be heard. That’s a win in my book.

The bread and Bang Bang Shrimp were so good that by the time my entrée arrived, I only managed three bites of ahi tuna before waving the white flag. Thankfully, leftovers mean bonus meals. Always a plus. It felt great to get out and enjoy the company of family.

Everyone have a great Tuesday and make the most of it.

Love you guys! ❤️ Photos: