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Here In Oakland

Art & Life


   



May 15, 2016

He Said

Sunday. Lights out by ten to awaken a couple of times to take a leak, wide awake at six-fifteen to get ready to drive to breakfast. Feel fine, just as most days seem to start feeling fine. If things are to fall apart, if a bubble is to form, it comes later in the mornings after the good start. No complaints, obviously. At least not until later.

Bright sun, no overcast. Had the pork chop with eggs over medium and country potato breakfast with the usual mixed fruit dish and coffee for breakfast. One fifty-one on the scale again so no thoughts, one way or another, about having a larger than usual breakfast.

Futzed at length with what I could of yesterday's entry before posting, finding obvious errors brought on by, well, the brain going off somewhere on its own while I'd been writing/adjusting/posting. Little reminders, sometimes more often than at other times, that we are making more and more errors that aren't noticed until later. Often much later. I suspect it's what happens with age as opposed to something like, well, alzheimers. So far the family, for however many generations, shows no alzheimers in the hereditary lines. But you read the stories, you note the changes and you, well, wonder.

Later. A now funky late morning and early afternoon, I'm afraid. The sinus/upper palate acting meaner and so a second dose of the pain meds before a bath and then a walk to the lake. Went through the usual questions of where I might like to go, remembering how many local places I not all that long ago would go to at the drop of a hat. Two, three years? That long? Last year? Who knows (without looking it up). It does all run together.

Anyway, out the door to the lake, the temperature now slightly over seventy and so out in just a long sleeved shirt. Again, though, felt funky, head in the bubble. What am I doing out here? Feel rocky. Funky. Whatever. Best to sit down at one of the benches except it's a sunny Sunday and they're all occupied. So back to the apartment to turn on the fan and lie down, listen to On The Media in bed. Took all of three pictures during the outing.

Evening. I've been catching myself checking the time, thinking it a weekday and checking to change television channel to the weekday afternoon news. Except it's a Sunday. OK, do it once, do it twice, such things happen. No big deal. Except it went on through most of the afternoon. Silly me. But “through the afternoon”?

A similar slip with Elementary that on Sundays starts at six. Clicking through the channels looking for something to watch I stumbled upon it at just after six, not a thought in my head this was Sunday, a day without anything on T.V. I'm willing to watch but this one program.

All of this is important enough to mention?

Just sitting here in our funky bubble. Nothing to do with the ocular stuff, just the day to day bubble stuff with the vision issues and such. Tired, funky, mind drifting, thinking it's the middle of a week. Explaining and not bitching. He said.

The photo up top was taken at this year's How Weird Street Faire with a Nikon D4s mounted with a 70-200mm f 2.8 VR II Nikkor lens.


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