Saturday, February 21, on the train to Plauderville, which is a station in Garfield. I’m going solo since Mike was called back to his crib to meet his new parole officer. He wasn’t happy about it; he was looking forward to seeing Elaine again, but it’s a new parole officer, and she’s got to flex.

It’s been good having Mike around, and he might come back tonight but I have a feeling he won’t make it.

Bill is still south of the Mason-Dixon line, and he’s due back tomorrow, just in time for a major blizzard that has been forecast.

Lunch with Elaine, Meghan, and Shelby was pleasant. I had the usual diner fare, hamburger deluxe, and a chocolate shake. Then Elaine and I went to the house and sorted through some of Frank’s CDs to sell or donate somewhere. Elaine is overwhelmed by the number of CDs and magazines Frank had accumulated.

Getting to the train station was difficult. Garfield PD sent a text message telling residents to stay indoors. That was not an option as we were outside and planning on getting to the train. The station I bought a ticket for was unreachable, so we went to the next station.

A few minutes later, I boarded the train and was rolling towards Hoboken. As we left Secaucus, the train died. An Eastern European woman complained to the conductor that she had tickets to a show and she might miss it, and wanted money right then and there.

6 or 7 of us in the dead car had a good time laughing at her.

Now it is Monday, February 23, 2026. It’s a snow day. About 18 inches fell overnight. I was told via text that the fruit stands would be closed today, which was good to know. The commute tomorrow promises to be a mess.

Bill made it home safe and sound, which was nice. He came home yesterday and was soon in Manhattan for a class that he signed up for a few weeks ago. It was scheduled before the snowstorm, and since it had only started snowing at that time the class was to begin. It may have been a waste of time, but in for a penny, in for a pound.

It was hoped Mike could have come back yesterday, but he was held back once again by his new parole officer. It’s their game, and he has to play by their rules. It’s been touch and go with communication, phone, and text. I haven’t left the apartment since yesterday, when I went outside to help Bill with his luggage and climb the four flights of stairs.

Looking out the window, I see a lot of snow. It’s a different view once you’re on the street, obviously, and I won’t see that until tomorrow. I have this feeling of apprehension for some reason. The Sunday night dread before a school day. But there’s really nothing to dread. It’s a good job at the fruit stand. I think it’s the agency that placed me there that is causing this feeling.