Day five, still alive. Two feedings, two groups. The ducks have split into two separate camps, fighting between themselves, over me. They see my truck arrive and they approach from two different directions. Today they stood apart about twenty yards while I walked between them, feeding them from my hand.
We all used to be friends, it's sad how things have evolved, but that's nature. I keep telling myself to give it up, but I keep not listening to myself. Seems to be the story of my life these days.
I sat in the middle of the Park afterwards and was reading my mail when a motorcycle pulled up and the driver approached my window. Turned out to be a guy I had chatted with a couple of years ago up there. Around my age, retired from the Railroad. He offered to buy my truck and I didn't even ask what he was offering, she just ain't for sale.
I've only had a bowl of cereal with blueberries and a banana to eat today. The fucking ducks eat better than me these days. I really do need to take better care of myself, but like I said, I ain't listening.
The best I can do is just treat this as a journal, and not shove it into the space of my very few friends and family. I slipped up yesterday, but I'm determined to succeed today...