Walking around the block with Eric and Mom, we were talking about my Grand Purge of 2020, wherein I am discarding, donating, or destroying many, many things that I have. I have been taking pictures of things before sending them on their ways.

Eric commented he'd been looking at pictures recently, of family members long since passed, people no one alive remembers anymore, and wondered if there isn't a fourth death.

"There are three deaths. The first is when the body ceases to function. The second is when the body is consigned to the grave. The third is that moment, sometime in the future, when your name is spoken for the last time." ― David M. Eagleman, Sum: Forty Tales from the Afterlives

The fourth death would be the last time someone looks at a picture of you.

I've been trying to see the good in crappy situations. I mean, 2020 is awful for so many reasons, and, for the most part, I am okay. Not thriving, but surviving.

As such, when crappy things happen, I've been trying to channel the thought "What's good? What's bad? Who knows." I'm also repeating, "But here we are," which is about the acceptance of the who knows thing.

The questions come from a Taoist story. The best I can find is from “The Tao Book and Card Pack” by Timothy Freke:

“When an old farmer’s stallion wins a prize at a country show, his neighbor calls round to congratulate him, but the old farmer says, “Who knows what is good and what is bad?”

The next day some thieves come and steal his valuable animal. His neighbor comes to commiserate with him, but the old man replies, “Who knows what is good and what is bad?”

A few days later the spirited stallion escapes from the thieves and joins a herd of wild mares, leading them back to the farm. The neighbor calls to share the farmer’s joy, but the farmer says, “Who knows what is good and what is bad?”

The following day, while trying to break in one of the mares, the farmer’s son is thrown and fractures his leg. The neighbor calls to share the farmer’s sorrow, but the old man’s attitude remains the same as before.

The following week the army passes by, forcibly conscripting soldiers for the war, but they do not take the farmer’s son because he cannot walk. The neighbor thinks to himself, “Who knows what is good and what is bad?”"

This week, I helped a friend. That's good.

This week, I lost my best friend, because I helped the first friend. That's bad.

And... who knows. Maybe my best friend and I will reunite some day, and I can explain. Maybe we won't and we'll go on to be happier, or maybe more miserable, than we were.

What's good? What's bad? Who knows. Maybe hiring that lawyer was the right choice. Maybe walking away is the right choice. Maybe being done with feeling like crap is the right choice. Maybe recognizing and remembering the bad is the right choice, such that growth happens.

What's good? What's bad? Who knows.

Yeah. I miss him.

I've given up the idea of having cold showers here. I'm told Denver water is cold, and Ottawa cold water is unpleasant. Here, however, the cold water is tepid at best and actually warms up after about four minutes in the water.

Which is to say, my extremities cool down enough that the water feels warm. I am uncertain if that is the point of the showers, but it seems to work.

Perhaps North Cascade showers will be cold enough to be unpleasant. I guess I'll find out in less than a week.

There's this thing (meme, call to action, trend, club, fraternity, inspiration) going around my small part of the internet where guys (always guys, only guys so far) fix one thing a day. I first noticed Derek Featherstone doing it, and maybe he has inspired the rest of us. I like continuous improvements. I like consistency. I like the magic that happens over a long time when small improvements are done consistently.

The mister replacements I ordered a week or so ago arrived, so I decided today's fix would be installing the missing mister element. The misting system in the corral has six misters, of which five exist and one was missing. For reasons I still don't understand, when I ordered the replacement misting element, I ordered six instead of the one I wanted to replace. Turns out, past self was seeing into the future.

I went out with three in hand, screwed one into the hole where the missing mister is, and turned on the water.

Mist came out only the one I had replaced. The other five were blocked.

Huh.

I replaced the two I still had in my hands, wow the water in that pipe was hot. Given the air temperature was around 44˚C, I really should have been unsurprised that the water was hot. Really should have been unsurprised.

I wandered back into the house, grabbed the remaining three misting elements, wandered back outside, careful to avoid all the sheep who were convinced I was bringing food (I was not), and installed the remaining three new misting elements.

With the water on, the hose connection leaks, and the misters are misting.

Now I just need the sheep to realize the corral is 10˚C cooler with the misters on, and lie near them, instead of along the house, during the heat of the day.