Out There Somewhere
Monday. A morning routine as most of my morning routines: up at six with the alarm, to breakfast and back before eight, the sky clear, the sun shining, the day and the week ahead. Just like that.
Out for a walk after perhaps an hour down Lakeshore by Starbucks and Noah's bagels, the thought of coffee or a bagel verging on unwholesome, deciding then to walk then farther on up and then down the hill to Grand and my morning breakfast place rather than turning back and taking the long way around. I don't usually walk this way because of the trudging up a hill involved, but this was the “short” side of the hill and I walked it pretty much without pause, just the vaguest puff! or two at the top. Which is good. Pat myself on the back. (Hup! Hup!)
An iced tea at the usual place out on the patio, a nice place to rest a bit and take in the day, a walk then by the book store and back to the apartment. A photograph of a wedding shoot of some kind. I was thinking a professional photographer, but maybe not as the camera guy was wearing what might be, say, a best man's tux. Generally, out and about like this, you'd have at least one person standing with a reflector to light the shadows and..., well, I do go on. What do I know? When have I ever had someone out with me holding a reflector? Nice looking couple though, nice photograph, nice way to set out on a walk.
Back now before one with the thought I've been out, done my stuff, let's now get in a good long guitar session. I played yesterday, but not enough, a weak day in an otherwise good week's practice making progress with the chords. Let's not let it fall back.
Fall back to what?
Cacophony, my friend. Cacophony reverberating throughout the halls of my apartment house! (To my angst, to their sorrow.)
Later. Hmm. Maybe best not to crow about the chords.
Later still. Guitar, yes, then a nap while listening to the news. Evidently not enough sleep last night by an hour. Now it's late afternoon and the temperature is starting to fall to a reasonable level. I'm thinking it's odd to leave the windows open wide all night to keep the place from overheating in the middle of November, but maybe not. As I've mentioned, I don't really remember what it's been like in the past. That first San Francisco day going to work on October 15th, raining like hell. That ten days in Napa, hotter than hell. Oh, and that January week on Potrero Hill, colder than hell.
More guitar, though, before the day is out. Not good to think you're further along than you are. I suspect. There's probably a rule about that, a caution about that, out there somewhere.