Muscat Hotel

Since my phone is broken and I had not heard if Julie was doing well for three days, I borrowed a phone and called Julie. She was in the doctor's office. It was good to hear that Allison was with her. Julie said she was okay, but no matter what that is what she would say. From Oman, without a phone it is hard to tell.

However, she assured me that Ashton had started sleeping with her again, which means he was upset with my leaving, not with Julie's health. It is strange that Ashton's return to her bed (he is a Jack Russel), would make me feel better. He seems to know when something is wrong before we do. I had hoped someone that had spent some time with Julie would have emailed me to assure me that all is well, but I guess not that many read this blog anymore.

The opportunity for build a magnesium plant that I have worked on for nine years is about to happen, perhaps. I got some poor vibs the last two days. Perhaps, it is my vibs about Julie being more important to me than any project, no matter how long I have worked on it, or no matter how much money I could make on it .... perhaps millions ... has been conveyed to others as not being fully committed, which I am not. And as usual, perhaps I talk too much and I am too honest. Well, which all goes to prove that fighting poverty is my Karma, as they say. But, it has only been 41 years since I took up the battle in earnest. I have moved ahead of poverty in the middle of the race, but I always feel that it will catch me again before I reach the finish line. Of course, Julie would be glad to go across the finish line and not pull up lame. I think when she does, I will stop and help her and poverty will race ahead of us.