Not Sure What
Monday, a vicious day, a vicious pace, best to wind up the evening with a whiskey and water, scan an image and write tomorrow.
OK, another day, a similar day, but my head is clear. The plumber came today and fixed the pipe under the kitchen sink, so I may cook something. Think about cooking something. Cook something tomorrow. There's no immediacy in any of this cooking business when you're a bachelor and the refrigerator is full of film and condiments. And beer. I have three cans of Guinness in the door. And some air popped popcorn up in the cupboard. But my heart is in the right place. Really.
I mentioned I'd bought a few CD's recently, a couple of books at the local library donated books outlet, one of which was Jerzy Kosinski's Pinball, the paperback edition published in 1982. I actually read it. I've read others, slowly, a chunk at a time. Pinball was OK, nothing to put on the books list, but, you know, a milestone, a book read in one or two sittings, something I once did day in and day out for many many years. Younger years. Same with the CD's. I bought the Neil Young Decade collection, two CD's, a personal retrospective of his work since Buffalo Springfield. Now, not everyone is into Neil Young - a whole bunch of history here - but the point is I've played it a number of times now without apparent damage. Brings back memories and, perhaps more important, it reminds me of why I like this stuff, why I like his guitar, why I once thought listening to music was sufficient in and of itself to make life worthwhile, everything else just frosting. Nice. Maybe I'll do more, maybe not. Any bit is to the better. Better is better.
Still putting the money into the bank instead of spending it on mud baths and six course dinners. Something coming up. Not sure what.