For The Evening
Sunday. And so we get to sleep a bit later than we'd have liked. The slight “ocular” incident mentioned didn't last long enough to do more than torpedo the evening's guitar practice and television and was gone by about nine, allowing the rest of the evening to be frittered away watching that detective program on the tablet. Up without having set the alarm though, feeling fine.
Breakfast did not contain any MSG or whatever else it is that leads to ocular adventures, just a straight plain waffle and fruit. More fruit than I could eat (even though it's against god's will to waste a single orange slice), but just that with the waffle. And the papers less the N.Y. Times that was late this morning and delivered after I'd left for breakfast. A judicious start in other words. We're being careful.
A trip by the supermarket on the way home: cottage cheese, cereal, milk, toothpaste and paper towels. Necessary items. Oh, and two of the small bottles of sake. We're not going to give up yet on trying to maintain some semblance of civilized existence. Just, you know, without the MSG.
Later. And so a short walk into the late morning cold just to get out of the apartment taking but one or two pictures thinking framing more than anything. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't, but most everything is framing following facial expression from my point of view.
Back to the apartment feeling the cold in a heavy sweater but light jacket. Some time on the computer and then a good hour plus nap. Felt good. Felt good getting up. A bowl of cereal for lunch (well, two bowls, they were small) and now the guitar. Missing a day yesterday won't be a problem. The guitar(s) feel good, the sounds seem almost recognizable.
Evening. A fair amount of time on the guitar(s), so we're good with the guitars. The two small bottles of sake have left me with a nice buzz as I've been watching whatever is was on Netflix.
I must admit to not being enthralled by Netflix, the limited access I've allowed myself to the television world has driven me to the site, but I must admit I've found one or two programs lately of interest, both of which were (I suspect) originally created for cable release.
Anyway, sake. It does give a nice high. The limited the amount in the kitchen insures I don't take it further than the two, something that invariably ends up in losing the following day to the shadows. I evidently understand the temptation of giving into drinking at this age, particularly when we seem to have voted ourselves in for a solitary existence.
All that aside we're feeling fine, now watching another Netflix series set in Seattle, all the scenes they're showing so far filmed when it's raining, the places familiar. Just the color of the trees brings back memories gained when I was younger.
Any thoughts of going back?<.
Probably not. I've known many people, interesting people, who came here in their salad days from all over, most of whom went back to where they came from and built what I would call more traditional lives, marrying, settling down and raising children. Not I. For whatever reason not I. Don't regret it, but think about it every now and then and scratch my head. Life. Art and life: not sure I've pursued either with dedication.
I've had my sake for the evening, served it in one of the sake sets I've had gathering dust in the cupboard, pouring the store bottles into one of them to have it in something more traditional. For the evening.