Tuesday. Awake and up just before the alarm was set to (detonate), on to breakfast and then to the hospital lab for another Protime test. The results last week were off, so they adjusted the medication (added an additional amount to be taken for a single day) and told me to get another test Monday. So I'm a day late. Not bad for this old clown. A day late and a dollar short. I've been practicing the first half of that for years now and have it down.

To bed last night just after nine, awakening once or twice to turn over to a different position, as sleeping in one position makes whatever side I'm on ache. Most people just turn over in their sleep, do they not? I need to wake up and, in waking up, take a leak, to just turn over onto my other side? I guess. I'm not sure how that works in the rest of the world, my sources of information are limited. Such is life.

Anyway, blood test done, the day is as overcast as it was yesterday, nine-thirty now as I write. We have a guitar we need to fire up. I know because it's sitting there in the living room looking at me. Or I'm looking (avoiding) it. But that's mostly the case, once it's tuned it and I are ready to play. Yes we are. I wouldn't lie. More than once or twice.

The photograph up above is in focus, but the shutter speed came in at 1/40th second on a hand held telephoto shot (my fault), so it's blurred by her movement. An adjustment I'd delayed making when moving from bright sun to shade, something I do usually automatically, but in this case, not automatically enough.

Anyway, one piece of information I'd not have recognized in the past: she's fingering what looks to be a A minor barre chord, something I've been learning to play these last several weeks. Hot stuff, right? No? You think?

Later. Heading out for a walk, my usual late morning routine, I thought, well, better wear a winter coat as it looks cold out there. Hell, it feels cold inside the apartment. So, out the door, where to go? It is cold. Overly cool at least. Walking by the geese I noted they were all hunkered down with their heads under one wing. Cold for geese (Canada geese, no less) too I guess.

Then, along the edge of the lake, were two geese and their gosling, the gosling with his or her head under her wing too. It looked a bit rumpled, but seemed to be OK. The last one remaining of the two, once three, small ones I'd photographed earlier? How fast do they grow? Could be, we'll not dwell on the diminishing numbers.

Oh, and I mentioned it was cold. It was cold so I returned to the apartment and here I sit looking at the guitar. Fate or Kismet? Fate has a certain negative feel to it, although one's fate can be positive; Kismet is more like a kiss. We'll say Kismet and get our first round of practice in, here in the cold snow covered north mountain realms of Oakland by the lake.

Later still. I did suspend newspaper delivery for the next week so I guess I'm heading for Portland. And Seattle. So good, get over these nebbish like thoughts of staying holed up here.

Lunch and sake at the sushi shop after spending maybe a half hour on the guitar, back home now having put in another hour of practice. We're getting there. The route is circuitous, to say the least, but we're making progress. I can see it, slow as it may be. (I think.) Some thought now about what I need to pack, what batteries need to be charged, what files need to be transferred to the laptop. An hour or so's task, I'll expand it into a day. No need for hurry, we'll leave when we leave.

Evening. I sometimes worry about the typos. You don't see them because I hope I catch them before putting them up, but they're a little different than what I've called typos in the past, odd little electrical shorts in the brain. Another sign of old times.

I may well put off leaving until Thursday morning, we'll see. If I leave tomorrow and drive four hours, I'll have two more four hour days to arrive, two nights on the road. That's enough, anymore. I've done it in a day, done it in two days, don't even much like doing it in three days these days, so we'll see.