Back Into Focus
Wednesday. I listened to an NPR program last evening and didn't bail until close to eleven, so another awake too late night. Can't complain. I know the perpetrator. Still, up with the alarm to head off to breakfast on what is going to be another good day, feeling OK, having no idea if I'll put it to good use. Again, no complaints. When it comes to the day's plans, I know the instigator.
Going through yesterday's entry underlined a rule: the first ninety-five percent of a task is of the least importance, that last five percent, maybe the last one or two are the critical steps. As I suppose is true with any task. Ninety-five percent gives you a start, the time and energy put into that last five decides the result: good, bad or indifferent. And this is an ongoing example. And talking about it, but doing nothing about it beyond about ninety-four is the result.
You're upset with yesterday's entry.
Words, pictures, scrabble and babble.
Later. The obligatory walk out the door and over to the construction site to see what they were up to. Lots of activity, the odd, never seen before drilling device boring into the wall (for what purpose I have not yet a clue), workers welding pieces of metal to I beams, dump trucks picking up loads of earth. Lots going on.
Not sure what's happening with the pictures, the color balance and light seem slightly off. Could be a setting (which I will go through the manual again to see if I'm doing something I shouldn't), could be the early morning sun, could be the phase of the moon or the new camera. Don't like to think it could be the new camera. Couldn't be me. Certainly not. Check the manual.
A quick loop over by the lake to find Hank gobbling down whatever it is he finds to scoop up out of the water. Seemed quite content to be paddling along and ducking his head between swallows. Seems to be at home at this end of his lake for the while.
What I know are not cherry blossoms starting to bloom and so a photograph. Whatever they are, they're blooming at about the right time, something you subconsciously consider with global warming.
Hungry and so set out for lunch a little early. Three pounds under the target weight again this morning so it seems to be holding. Or am I now two pounds over what is now the new target weight of one fifty-five? We'll know in another month. I suspect I'll feel better at one fifty-five, but then who knows?
As in becoming an even more spindly and stooped over old man dragging his camera?
Just means we avoid mirrors.
Later still. Another walk over to the construction site to take more pictures, still not sure what their new device is doing drilling through their two by twelves retainer wall and into the hillside, before catching a bus to Jack London Square. Why Jack London Square? I have no idea, it didn't really appeal any more than any other destination, but I haven't been there for a while. So there.
A short walk around the area taking a single picture. Still, a decent walk even if it was done with what seemed minimum enthusiasm.
Back along Broadway to Grand to pick up a turkey and Swiss sandwich at a Subway to take home on the next bus. Only thing I could think of all morning that I knew I would eat. So I did. Not bad, not good, another day, another lunch.
Another walk out the door to the construction site, this time with a long lens on the camera. I decided I needed to get closer, needed to get more people into the pictures.
Over then to the lake, thinking there wouldn't be much going on, but found two Brown Pelicans sitting on the floating boom where I'd found Hank fishing for his lunch earlier. Then a group of young dudes (kids) practicing their break dancing. Is that break dancing? I have no idea, probably goes under a new name anymore, but they weren't bad and they were obviously having a good time. So pictures.
Home now late in the afternoon ready for the evening's guitar. I've had a feeling my interest has been growing lately, the playing ability perhaps now far enough along to regain my interest, so let us see. Deedle-dee-dee. Can't have the whole damned day go by without a spark or two and the chance of a little fire.
Evening. Nothing on television again. Another crack at House to no avail, we may have to go on an extended vacation there, more guitar and then more guitar. To bed by nine I suspect, but there are new magazines to read and I'll undoubtedly confess to the usual I got to sleep later than I'd said I wanted to when the world drags itself back into focus in the morning.