-My apologies for my absence as of late. I've been in a mood for solitude, other than my twice-weekly physical therapy. The latter is going alright, slow progress but noticeable progress.

-I think the mood is down to a number of things. First is the avoidance of any discussions about the nuthouse in Washington. I can't fathom what is in the environment in the South that breeds people named Marjorie and Earl and Tommy who actually are the intellectual best the population has to send to Congress where they seriously and freely put forth resolutions for the man-toddler to take Greenland and rename it Red, White, and Blue Land as an example. I can't write this shit, but these people are proposing this as national policy. My apologies for skirting far too closely perhaps the subject of American politics, but I say just this much to explain why I just want to be alone.

-I'm also admittedly wrestling with a few ghosts and night-haunts, wondering why I invested my sanity to see the country devolve into the above. My career seems to have been pointless, but I get to live with the memories. It's hard to explain the feeling of aimless drifting that follows the sense of purpose, the adrenaline, the concentration of thought and action, and yes the really bad bits, especially when all that seems not to have helped make us better.

-My apologies for the above. It is crowding the line of Club Rules and decorum, not to mention a vent about a subject which everyone else will find hard to understand, so probably should keep it to myself. I thought I had all that pretty well under control, but lately I wonder if I've been bullshitting myself just a bit. Thanks for letting me get a little of the weird out, even if it makes little sense.

-Anyway, I've been spending a lot of time in the workshop, the latest projects building several boxcar kits that have lurked in the kit-cabinet far too long.





These are the first two of a group of four boxcars under construction.

Meanwhile, my dear loyal friends are sticking close: