I'd say that was a pretty productive weekend in terms of exercising my mind, body, and soul. Once a year, since my life fell apart six plus years ago, and then got worse with each successive year, I take a day where I cover at least thirty miles on foot. This is not a good time. Today was that day for 2018, but I added in a higher level of difficulty: five climbs of the Bunker Hill Monument in addition to the thirty miles. So, after walking 23.5 miles, I did five straight mighty climbs. After that, I could not have been wetter. There was little oxygen it seemed like in the Monument today. Then I went to an ice cream truck and bought three bottles of water. The ice cream man asked me where I was from, I said the North End--what was I supposed to say? Mansfield, where I grew up?--and he replied "Not originally, or else we would have fought at some earlier point." Ha! That is so what you want from your ice cream man. I wrote in my head, of course, as I went about my travels. Came home to shower at that point, discovering a nasty patch of heat rash on my right side, and then headed back out and ended up the day at thirty-one miles. Went to Starbucks after that and made notes for the week, came home and wrote and sent out three letters. Watching The Odd Couple now and dumping fluids down my gullet. Done.