Wednesday. No more driving up and down the coast, I'm taking the train next time to Portland. I like the train. I used to take it all the time. Probably more because I'm getting old(er) and hours behind the wheel are not something I can do anymore, morning and night, than any invasion of sense or sobriety. Five plus hours back this morning, leaving at seven-thirty, arriving here around one: a quick look through the mail, a walk to the bank and the post office and then on to the morning breakfast place (to have breakfast and read the papers, what else?) before hopping a bus back to the apartment. And a nap.
My apartment manager says Ms. Emmy ate well but, unlike my trips in the past, this time she would jump into her lap wanting to be petted rather than just roll on her side to be scratched. She's been sitting on my lap pretty much since I returned. It will probably take the rest of the day to settle her into her old groove, if I had to guess. I would think. I, the cat expert. I was gone nine days, after all, and there's definitely a reaction. She's a cat, memory differences and all that, but I do think more than twice about her staying here alone every time I leave for any period. I could see earlier she recognized what was going on when I was packing. Such is life. Complicated. Even for cats.
So, one or two pictures on the way back today. The Redwood forest area in northern California has some really nice vistas, but not many opportunities to pull over and take a snapshot. The fog in the early morning, the sun through that fog, the small towns and funky buildings, some of them actual funky as opposed to attract the tourist funky, all of them calling out to any photographer worth his salt who's on something other than a race to the north.
Later. So, I've watched my Korean soap now, having missed the last seven episodes. I've been thinking they were going to resolve this thing two months ago, but I guess they're written so you can skip a week if you want and jump back in without the plot having moved forward. I suppose I'm naive about this and all “soaps” are structured this way. I call it a “soap” and maybe I'm closer to the truth than I think. Anyway, things have moved an inch or two in my Korean soap, but nothing other than a few minor things have been resolved and it may last through this entire coming year. This entire coming decade. It will undoubtedly outlast me.
Do you recommend this thing to friends?
Good grief no. They can only put up with a certain level of craziness in their friends as it is and, with my ever present camera and blathering here, I'm already pushing the envelope.