Wednesday. Lights out at ten with Sanders down seventeen points in the New York primary, awakening at six. Not a bad night's sleep, the sky clear, more sun on the way and so a nice walk to breakfast, just out the door and (bam!) we were there.
Nothing on the schedule today other than cleaning up yesterday's pictures. I wasn't into processing them when I got home through sloth, being tired and done after the walking, but today is starting better. Much better. Get in a decent walk later and, if we should actually continue with this daily walking routine, maybe we'll get through a photography weekend without crapping out.
You believe that?
Who knows? Just do it and see. Not unlike climate change, this aging thing: it's happening, it's going to eventually get worse, but who knows when it will come or how long it will drag itself out at the end? Might as well enjoy the day, even if the days are warmer than we recall (if we remember how warm it was in the past) and just take pictures until we can't take them anymore and hang up the cameras.
Later. I was actually (as in seriously) thinking of taking a bus to Berkeley or closer in to Jack London Square, maybe have coffee at a shop I haven't visited in a while. Exotic thoughts, in other words, and so on the bus to take it to the end of the line this time and then pick somewhere to walk from there, but in passing Latham Square I saw they were planting trees. I wanted pictures of them planting trees.
So off the bus at the City Center stop to walk back to the Square to take the usual set of pictures, but in reverse order. No great deviation from the norm, but the attitude was certainly good and so a bus to Grand to then walk the rest of the way home, taking a dogleg by another construction site I'd noticed but a block over from Grand at 23rd and Valdez. When's the last time I've deviated even an inch from the usual route? Odd to see it make such a difference.
So good, the head clear, the sinuses behaving, the weather perfect (sitting inside, not out running around) and babbling here.
Babbling on helplessly like an idiot isn't all that uncommon around here.
But an upbeat idiot, a leap to the good, babbling a sure give away.
As a babbling idiot would say.
Evening. How do we finish our good, clear headed, atypical and babbling like an idiot day? Well, we watch television, process a few pictures and listen to a discussion on the primary on Charlie Rose.
Q.E.D. An idiot's evening.
Something like that, but awake, aware, up and cooking.