Tuesday. To bed early again last night, up with the alarm, to breakfast and back at the usual time, the sky overcast, but a sunny day with the projected temperatures up around seventy later in the afternoon. Not bad, this day before the last day of August. Whatever significance that may have in the scheme of things.
The Labor Day weekend coming up with at least two scheduled street events to photograph. In the limited world of your's truly that's pretty good. There are advantages to living with a camera at the end of the rainbow, the promotional budgets needed to bring in the tourists are big enough to fill the weekends with entertainments and distractions not unlike those experienced in Caesar's Rome and those prophesied for the end of days.
“It's the End of the World as we know it, and I feel...?”
We wouldn't want to disappoint all those righteous folk out there over and beyond the bridges now, would we? It's only right that we, like those Romans of old, should properly play our roles.
Later. A walk along the lake and then over to the bagel shop to have a cup of coffee out at one of their tables along the sidewalk, walking then around to the ATM for a transaction. Too many ATM transactions. Then again who's keeping track?
Best it be you, old man.
A good walk in the sense the brain was alive thinking thoughts of doing this and doing that, paths to take that might lead to projects I'd like. It's good to have these periods of sanity, gets the juices flowing, makes for (one day, who knows?) pleasant changes that lead you along without needing to push too much. Ambition as opposed to sloth. Hup.
A photograph of another lake runner doing his stretching exercises in front of the columns. I assume it's part of an exercise program rather than an exercise in bringing forth the lake demons, the fountain sprites or the gods and goddesses of light and dark. One of the reasons I assume such is that I'm not sure I've ever seen a lake demon, fountain sprite or a god or goddess of light and dark. Except when I'm in my cups and that doesn't count. Not right now, anyway, clear headed, sitting at the computer.
Later still. A salad at the usual place. Not much of a salad, but it had enough greens, a tomato and such to say it was a salad. An old time after thought American salad served with, well, stuff. Alice Walker would not have been impressed. Oh, and a nice glass of iced tea. Nothing wrong with their iced tea. (This is not to say Alice Walker would agree, I suspect she would not, but for reasons plebeian I wouldn't know about.)
Have we Alice Walker issues?
No, no, no! I'm with the plan, just not quite up yet on implementation. I still go to farmer's markets for the photographs, less so for lettuce and carrots.
We're home now to listen to the news while practicing on the guitar, getting ready for the lesson tomorrow. Time marches forward pulling us along. Kicking and screaming.
Evening. Still the energy of the morning. My, my. Have spent more time on the guitar, we'll see if I'm ready tomorrow, to bed early I think. Maybe do something with what's left of the evening, something ambitious, unusual, possibly productive. Maybe.