Thursday. To bed early, yes, but up again well after the alarm to head off to breakfast and back on another morning when I've arrived late and had to feed the meter. Life it tough, here in the marshlands of sunny Oakland. He said.
The day starts reasonably well, but (I'm thinking) only after I've had a nap. Doesn't seem to matter how well the night before may have gone, how much sleep seems to have been logged, but there's always the potential need for a nap. Habit, perhaps. Or what happens as the years go by. No complaints. Naps are nice when the rent is paid and there are no red light flashing ambulances in a race to reach your door.
Later. A nap wasn't evidently in the works, so a walk over to the lake to check the goslings, if I could find them and to see what might pop up in front of the 80-400mm lens.
No sign of the goslings until I reached the white columned pergola, finding them beside the road on the grass feeding away oblivious to the world. This time I counted a full nineteen, the same count I'd first gotten before they fell back to eighteen and I thought one had been lost. I suspect one of them is larger and older than the others and he or she isn't always in the mix. Still, nice to see they're OK. It is.
I did pass a female Back-Crowned Night Heron at the edge of the lake, the usual stone faced didn't seem to care about it look on her face. I like that in the Night Herons, shows a bit of attitude, a studied “I don't give a damn you're standing there” look. The same two egrets, the Snowy and the Great, were fishing nearby and I finally caught the Great egret successfully grabbing a fish in more than one frame. We'll do even better the next time we're out.
Anyway, back to listen to the President's speech while taking a bath. Many of this administration's policies put my teeth on edge and I've long since stopped trusting the man. I think Vietnam queered me for any trust I might once have had in the government when it comes to rationales for invasions, blood (mine, if not their's) and war.
It's noon. Time for lunch, maybe see if I can't talk myself first into that nap. Maybe, maybe, all the time maybe. Things seem to have gotten back into their rut groove.
Later still. A walk to have lunch out on the patio at the usual place, the temperature just cool enough with the light wind. No pictures while walking; the dry mouth, of course, but nothing more. Another nap? Why not? Once you've had one, two doesn't count.
The nap, another dose of the pain meds on top of the earlier regularly scheduled dose, the sinuses, upper palate and teeth acting up (they seem to have worked), the afternoon coming to a close. OK. The sinuses do that. Not too often, but often enough. Similarly the dry mouth and the rest of the crap.
But again, OK, we seem to be through it and on to the other side. Get ready to play the guitar, prepare for tomorrow's lesson. Life in the fast lane, here across the bay from the heart of the beast.
Evening. We'll watch the second chapter of the new Korean “who will be the first to kill the Joseon Prince of the realm” series now running on Wednesdays and Thursdays at six forty-five, play a little guitar and go to bed. Early. We will.