Managed to unhinge my brain again, with an outburst of, well, whatever is the word for active depression. Anxiety, I suppose, or despondent anger. Or whatever. (We asked for the funeral to be extremely private and down to less than a dozen people, and then one of my attention-starved siblings went on Facebook and announced it and argued with me 'family' means everybody and to mind my own business. Ye. Especially the people who haven't visited dad for 30 years, let alone when he was in the hospital. Dad wouldn't have enjoyed a big funeral. He enjoyed big gathering while he was still fucking ALIVE.) ... It's not depression. It's ... exhausting sense of helplessness, caring too much about something nobody else cares about. There.

       It doesn't help that I hit my head during these episodes. But a few hours later, after I woke up and decided I sort of want to spend some time surrounded by humans, and offed to the mall, I stood in front of a personalised mugs stand, trying to remember General's name. I was sure I knew it and should come to it in no time, I just couldn't remember it right there. We watched an old native movie last night, freaky and epic, so I picked a mug with the wild-man poacher villain's drawing. There are no adorable kettles for light hikers around here, so a large mug will have to do. (To test a tiny backpacking stove I got for the car.)

         To cheer me up, the General is actually plotting and planning all kinds of little trips - he bought the highway yearly pass and the other day out of nowhere decided to drive up to a hill range in the north, to sort of introducing the car to snow. (I had to drive, because the road is too winding and I get too car-sick if I am not). The fog was as thick as can be and it was either snowing or raining. I have to say, though, driving an automatic pick-up, it's poetry. The car did almost everything on its own. I kept feeling like I'm falling asleep, because of the nigh zero visibility. The road is excellent, for the circumstance, safe and pleasant. There was no other traffic to speak of.) I heard of a small bog I didn't know about, so that's where we'll go next. Weather's said to be crappy for weeks; not that going to a bog on a sunny day makes any sense. I reckon it's supposed to be drizzly and foggy.