Not For The Last
Sunday. To bed early to read a couple more chapters of Ms. Kolbert's The Sixth Extinction, still finding it a really good read. To sleep by ten, up at seven-thirty feeling pretty good, given the range of mornings we've had in this last year. They're usually pretty good, breakfasts are good (today's was fine with lots of sunshine), and then we get to the late mornings when and if whatever is going to bite us makes its appearance.
And this morning? Well, more work on the Chinese New Year Parade photographs, we still have a way to go yet, but I think I can cobbly together two sections out of the lot. Some looked better this morning than they did yesterday when I got home, so feeling more up about that.
A short walk in the warm and the sun to take a picture or two over at the lake. Two guys scouting the area with metal detectors. There are hobbies and there are hobbies. I wonder what they find? When they're lucky? When they're not? Still, can't complain, don't need any grief or curled lips of my own from a non-photographer set.
Is there a non-photographer set?
Only the few who throw rocks and I can't say I've run into any rock throwers yet.
Later. Spaghetti for lunch, a little salty, this particular brand, I'm not going to buy it again. Hungry. Still three pounds under target, so maybe that's the reason. You don't eat enough long enough and you get hungry no matter how screwed up your palate.
More time on the photographs, two sections, some forty-five or fifty pictures, some good, some OK. Finishing them will take the rest of the day.
Read another two chapters of The Sixth Extinction, both good, the writing holding well. When's the last time I finished a book? How many have I started and then left to sit beside the bed? Well. How many times will I go over this? It's not a secret, except maybe from myself.
A walk in the late afternoon for a pint of ice cream for dinner, the sun going down behind the buildings. Yes, ice cream for dinner. No excuses, I knew what I was doing and didn't bat a lash pushing the money across the counter, although I'd forgotten to bring a bag and had to buy another piece of a tree to carry it home. Did I not understand what I would be doing as I was leaving and so didn't bring a bag? I've had other lapses in these last couple of days, this is not one of the big ones.
Evening. One or two things on television, the now half hour instead of an hour long Moyers & Company, I'm going to miss this one when it's finished, a Swedish detective series then at nine. Don't recognize its name or the brief description on the web and so we'll give it a try.
And if we end up watching it we'll stay up late and I'll complain in the morning. Then again, it's seven-thirty, nothing to watch between now and nine, maybe if I were to go to bed and read I'll conk out and the morning will arrive with me and the world at peace.
And maybe that ice cream will kick in and you'll fizzle, get to bed early and arrive in similarly good mood.
Not for the first time and, one hopes, not for the last.