A Bummer Though
Friday. Late yesterday afternoon, when I got back from the doctor's, I found my two medium light weight jackets had arrived and they look nice. By that I mean they look as good as any of the light weight jackets I've ever seen and so my ordering them over the web seems to have worked. Of course there's no way to know what I might have found had I actually gone to a store and looked through their offerings, but we'll put that our of our little head and continue to think we're a clever fellow. Yes I'll take a picture, but I can't promise when.
And why not?
I'm not sure why not, I just know I can't. Promise. And keep it. Oh, and the doctor prescribed pills which I will pick up later today, a series of doses that start out high and are rapidly reduced to zero, then another appointment scheduled in two weeks to see what can be seen. He thought this would do the trick. I hope so too.
Back from breakfast, overcast, the weather people totally changing their forecast for the next five days. What causes that? They were saying sun and now they're saying cloudy with patches of rain, this change seemingly coming almost overnight. Maybe change my weather web site? What am I saying, it's a dismally complicated business. Better maybe to buy a Farmer's Almanac.
Still, I need to go downtown to pick up these new pills, a sure way to get me out of the apartment, rain or not. I wore one of the new jackets to breakfast: nice, felt good, it actually fit. Nice lining, nice whatever its made out of, nice interior zippered pocket. They replace two jackets I bought north of Seattle at a Nordstrom store over ten years ago. They were nice, they cost somewhat more than others, they've lasted for a long time, longer than they should have lasted, and now I have another pair that will probably last longer than I will. No complaints. Well, maybe the “lasting” longer than I part. I bring the subject up now and again, but it doesn't really seem to be particularly stuck in my consciousness unless it is and I'm just not aware of it. We're getting older. I hear it's part of the deal, but that doesn't mean I truly understand. I'm older now, twenty going on twenty-one. Nineteen going on twenty. Hard to keep track.
Later. I was struck, as we were walking along Pescadero's short main street on Wednesday, by the number of really exotic looking flowering plants and trees we were passing and how I had no idea what they were. The flowering tree up at the top. What is it? Something well known to most people, no doubt, but why has the fact never really sunk into my head there are many thousands of truly unique flowering plants (and trees) out there right in front of my eyes?
My knowledge consists of what I've seen in flower shops and farmers' markets. I generally know an orchid when I see one. I know there are thousands of varieties (hundreds of varieties?), but any one I notice has just one name in my lexicon: “orchid”. It's an orchid. It's a tulip. It's a rose. It's a dandelion. It's a, well, flower of some kind. I suspect it will stay that way, no further exploration on my part, but you never know with all this time on my hands, particularly if it turns out one day I'm not living here in Oakland.
Later still. A bus downtown just before noon to pick up my prescriptions, a walk across the street to buy a sandwich at Subway to eat later at home and then a bus back to the apartment. No walking, no pictures. Maybe a walk and pictures later. I have a package due today containing another (and I hope final) camera bag ordered last week, an impulse buy, but one that will make itself useful. Come the end of the world I should be able to move them into the car on very short notice.
The end of the world?
A nice general term for earthquakes, plagues, fires and undeniable urges to head north. Or south. One must be prepared. Heading too far west would be a bummer though.