Time On The Guitar
Tuesday. To bed again after nine, up with the alarm, off to breakfast and back, the Times not having arrived and the two local papers as thin as thin can be. Such is life. They're saying it's going to be up into the eighties for the rest of the week, so we're doing the laundry this morning in preparation. How are they connected? They're not, other than being connected here in the same sentence while the washers are turning downstairs. See? The heat is already getting to me.
Later. No desire to go downtown to look for lunch, although I was hungry; no desire to walk over to the morning restaurant for lunch either, so naturally, as I was debating this, the bus came along and I found myself downtown in the City Center in a t-shirt sitting out at a table in the sun over a cup of coffee. Well, half water and half coffee.
This lasted all of ten minutes. Another bus back toward the apartment having the same conversation, home or the morning café, all the territory we were passing stale even on a really nice sunny day, so I stayed on the bus until it reached the morning café and ate the usual ice cream with lemonade. We are so inventive.
A brief experiment with a picture of a pin wheel while sitting out at a table, a walk back along the lake to note the crud just below the water's surface by the fountain. I assume it comes out of the two underground streams that feed into the lake at this point. I'm not sure I want to know what it is.
In opening the fountain photograph later in Lightroom I started to eliminate what I thought were dust spots against the sky, but inadvertently clicked on the image bringing the section with the spots up to full size. Two birds. No dust. The photographer side of the brain will remember this.
But so. We'll pick up the guitar now, I think, and start a little early. I got in enough time yesterday, be nice to get in even more time today, set us up for an easy lesson. And maybe inch closer to the point of being able to play.
Evening. A nap earlier, a bit of a funky head due (I assume) to today's less than sensible (less than ocular adverse) diet. Such is life. We'll work that out starting tomorrow with breakfast. We do push against this damned ever present envelope.
A Maigret I haven't seen before at six that drew me in thereby missing the first twenty minutes of what turned out to be the last chapter of the Korean advertising soap that's been running on Mondays and Tuesdays. It wound itself up as you'd expect: even the guy who lost the girl to our hero found his own right for him girl at the end. Treacly as all hell. Not one I could watch again without doing permanent damage. Still, a good evening with decent time on the guitar.
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