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Here In Oakland

Art & Life


April 7, 2014

To Oakland
Monday. To bed at probably not a great hour last night, after ten, but not all that much after. I think. Been a while. Eight, maybe nine hours. That's “a while” these days.

It's obviously going to be a warm t-shirt weather day, the sky clear, the temperature rising. Feel reasonably good, will probably feel better after a nap and a bath. I need to box up the D3s and send it to my sister now that I'm using the D4 and the D4s for shooting. No sensible reason to have gotten the D4s, but it's nice having a pair that are very similar when out shooting again, so we'll say no more. And my sister will appreciate having the D3s to add to the D3. I certainly did.

Later. An attempt at a nap that didn't work out and so a bath before trying again. Tired without being tired, the nose and sinuses acting as if they didn't like pollen. I'm wondering if the pollen out there in the air has turned traitor and I'm finding it's now a hazard later in life. Not something I was expecting.

Packed the camera and the peripherals that go with it, forgetting to send it in its original box. A senior moment. Still, well packed, a walk to the UPS shop to ship it to my sister so that, at least, is done. Why I dragged my feet until today to get it together, I don't know, but it was at the shop just after noon. Really.

A tuna fish sandwich and a lemonade at the usual place for lunch. I was hungry, still running some pounds under what I've been calling my target weight when I got on the scale this morning, but with the pollen and the screwed up nose, the day has been fuzzy and with two of these senior episodes. Forgetting that camera box, writing CA instead of OR on the UPS tag. Which the fellow caught. Maybe try that nap again, see if we can work it into something better.

Only a couple of pictures. The work crews are back at the apartment house construction site continuing to pour cement around the foundation beams, the “footers” I've been calling them. I suspect they're called something else by people in the business. Oh, and someone had scribbled an addition to the ghost graffiti I passed by Saturday while walking home. Banksy he/she/they isn't.

Evening. More House (dear god), we're obviously devolving to hopeless. Feel better, though. Is it because it's evening and I'm sitting here inside, not walking, not exercising (if you can call the walking I do exercise), not inhaling pollen? Why seemingly so much better in the evenings? Not complaining about the evenings, mind you, but we'd like to bring the later mornings and afternoons into line.

You do eat at the same place every morning. Maybe you're allergic to something they put in the food?

Plain waffles and sliced fruit? The coffee? Some weird brand of coffee? Really? How many times have I wondered about that, tested, and come up with nothing? Maybe more House. One of the episodes may hold a key. Some weird not in Kansas anymore malady they identify, not seen since the Pliocene, now returning to Oakland.

The photo up top was taken yesterday at the Saint Stupid's Day Parade with a Nikon D4 mounted with a 24-70mm f/2.8 G Nikkor lens.