Wednesday. We are a little melancholy at the beginning of this day and most of yesterday, more so perhaps than the norm, but a nice day today: sun, warm, birds chirping and the rest. Awake at seven-thirty to read the papers in bed with the radio down low in the background. What to do for breakfast? We have not prepared in advance, not that we ever prepare for these events in advance.
You have in the past in those times when you've been living alone.
True, but those were during chapters when I was into cooking (as most of the people I then knew were into cooking and, ahem, wine); now we're in our latter bachelor phase where we never do more than look at some of the old high end cooking utensils we still have left in the kitchen before we pour the occasional bowl of cereal or cook a pot of spaghetti.
Anyway, we'll see how the morning ends, who out there has been forced to remain open on a day when more sensible people are at home. And figure out breakfast by noon.
Later. A walk over to the 7-11 look-alike for an ice cream cone, a roll of Necco wafers and a small bag of cashews. Ate the ice cream and started the Neccos on the way home, passing a Korean restaurant that was open. If I go out later I suspect that's where I'll go. Haven't had Korean food in a while, haven't eaten at this particular restaurant in a long time for no good reason.
But you won't.
But I won't. Actually, the attitude is better, the melancholy seems to have disappeared, so we'll have some spaghetti with clam sauce to get us through the afternoon and worry about dinner later. Again, nice day outside, people out walking, but very little traffic. Christmas Day in Oakland.
Evening. A talk with the sister, her Christmas dinner having gone well, although the nephew and his significant other didn't stay long (both of us remembering when we were in our late twenties and how we were then). To bed early feeling the day has ended well and, well, all's well that ends well, to end our Christmas with a hackneyed phrase.