Before Nine
Thursday. As mentioned, to bed early and soon enough to sleep, up with the alarm, the senses booting up and adjusting themselves to the world by the time I set out for breakfast. Which is good. I'm appreciative. I am. The world coming together into some recognizable form before we climb into the car.
A plain waffle with sliced bananas and strawberries with coffee and a fruit cup for breakfast, the usual fare, home by eight, some stirrings over at the construction site, so I'll wander over later and take pictures. The last day of the month, much like the first day of the month, the routine unchanging. Our day to day routines are evidently well proofed against scrutiny.
Later. A bath, a lie down on the bed for about an hour to listen to a Ralph Nader interview on the radio. I'd order his book if I felt I'd read it and may indeed order it anyway. Wonder if there's a Kindle edition? Less guilt in not reading it in electronic form.
A picture or two of the construction site on the way to catching a bus to the ATM on Broadway and then a walk on to the pharmacy for a large bottle of fiber pills. Haven't really needed them since the gall bladder operation, but best not to take chances. Too much other crap going on to take a chance on adding it to the mess. More, in this case, is not better.
Managed to miss the returning bus by some two or three minutes so a walk over to the Rotunda building for a small coffee (cut half with water) and a raspberry shortcake cookie as I waited for the next bus to arrive. A walk then at the appropriate time to the bus stop. Had the earlier bus arrived as late as this one arrived I wouldn't have missed it, but this is not a surprise. Flaky buses of late.
Off a stop early to take more pictures of the construction site. If we're going to take photographs every day, we might as well do it right, and so we started with the Bellevue side and then along Grand, holding the camera up over the fence in what's called Live View mode where the image is displayed on the camera back screen instead of through the viewfinder. We use this as an excuse when the horizon is off. Hard to get the horizon right when the camera is being held over your head, pointed in what you hope is the right direction.
Home now to listen to the news, read the news and work on this. Too much news with all the crap going on in the Mideast, but this seems to be the habit. If I were younger I'd get angry.
If you were younger you'd have moved to a local music channel or dropped a record on the turntable.
True. I didn't even own a television set during most of my twenties and thirties, didn't watch all that much after, but I did remain glued to the radio during Watergate. Nixon was not our favorite President then, most have been problematic since.
Later still. A good mid to late afternoon. Some energy, fairly clear headed, enough so to comment on the fact. Nothing has come of it, particularly, but the fact is nice, even if nothing comes of it.
Some guitar, an early start.
Evening. Nothing on television, some interest in a movie I found on Netflix, still feeling markedly clear headed throughout. A decent session on the guitar before going to bed. And to sleep. Before nine.
|