To Have It
Sunday. They're saying periods of light rain today and the sky looks it, although so for no water. Back from a leisurely breakfast reading the paper (the Chronicle this morning, the Tribune still hadn't been delivered when I left) and returning now to see what I'm going to do for the rest of the day. The head is good, the upper palate aches, but not too noticeably, the lungs acted up yesterday, so these pills I'm taking are working, but they're not something that works miracles overnight - no complaints, I'm seeing improvement - and otherwise I'd say I'm feeling pretty good, light rains notwithstanding.
Minerva had a positive horoscope in the paper this morning, no need to run it here, Jupiter and Venus doing a dance in the fish house and in everybody else's house, from what I could see, so we'll add that to our upbeat attitude for the week. (Hup! Hup! Hup!) Make some prints, maybe, take those pictures in the new light weight (medium!) summer jackets, go crazy. All good at the age of sixty-six, going on sixty-seven in another (good lord!) seventeen days.
Let's see, a couple of errors yesterday. Our local power company, P.G.&E. is spending up to 35 million dollars, not just 16 million dollars, to float a change to the law limiting local municipalities from buying power from them and other sources for their communities to provide lower prices, requiring a two-thirds majority rather than a simple majority to pass a plan. Sixteen million ain't so much anymore, I guess.
Later. The no water has turned into the forecast light rain, not light enough to go outside, I'm afraid, but a good time to make prints (which I've been doing) and maybe do some framing. Shows lots of energy just mentioning it. We'll see how this plays out. Miserable day outside, pretty nice inside, maybe turn on the TV and listen to some of those nice overseas news broadcasts. (Just kidding. Well, sorta just kidding.)
Later alligator. Well, that was more of an adventure than I was thinking, a first time trip over to IKEA on a rainy Sunday afternoon learning you don't go to an IKEA on a weekend unless you absolutely have to. But I got this urge to replace the two floor standing lamps, one of which is broken, with two new floor standing lamps, a model of which I found on the IKEA site that looked nice for a decent price. And a dining room table, wood, that would make an excellent work surface against a wall in the living room, allow me to put the stacked boxes sitting where it will go under it (out of the way, he said, not having a clue) and getting more work and elbow room.
The IKEA is a large store in Emeryville, just up the way. Fourteen hundred parking spaces, every one of them full. Well, most of them full, I found a space easily enough on the third floor of the parking garage. But boy howdy the people. Nothing but streams of people pushing carts and sitting on chairs (trying them out), streams and loads and bunches of people, all moving slowly in some kind of shopaholic ballet. Far out.
Took hours to figure out where the stuff was - getting a cart was an adventure - then getting it loaded, getting it to the car, figuring out how to get one of the back seats go up so I could get the boxes in the car, getting them up to the apartment, running them up on the elevator using a shopping cart we have stashed in the laundry room, here now looking at the four boxes sitting in the middle of the living room floor while writing this. Phew! Oh, and thinking of what this trip might be like in the rain, I didn't take a camera with me and couldn't therefore take any pictures. The first time out the door without a camera in I don't know how long. Phew! Withdrawal symptoms.
In a while, crocodile. OK, the lamps have been assembled, the table unpacked and the cardboard boxes shuffled downstairs into the recycle bin. I'm pooped and I may finish assembling the table tomorrow, if it's raining. Then again, sitting here in the early evening, the pieces staring at me from the floor, maybe that table can be assembled slowly, tired or no. Be nice. To have it. In place. Tonight.