Coming From Breakfast
Saturday. Saturday, a weekend, good. There's a Chinese New Year Flower Fair going on in San Francisco later, an annual event, and it would be good if I got out of my shell long enough to go over and take some pictures. At least it's been pencilled in on the calendar for the last month. A decent way to bail on the fair would be to go by the local farmers market for a while and tell myself I'll force at least one good photograph before leaving. If I feel the need for an excuse. Which isn't likely.
To bed last night at a decent hour. I ended up watching a Netflix movie in the early evening and decided that was enough for the day, turned off the alarm this morning at six forty-five and slept in for another hour until seven, to breakfast and back just after eight. I don't like to rush breakfast and I should have brought some quarters along for the parking meter, but without the Times in the paper mix, the reading goes quickly and I said the hell with it. Lazy more than anything else.
Then a nap for an hour and a half. I fiddled with yesterday's entry before posting, it needed pruning and a lot more editing. It needed more editing when I finally did give up and post the thing, but no excuses, I did what I did. An hour and a half nap, though. How much do I need in a night? How well do I sleep? I figure if I don't awake in the middle or have trouble dropping off, that's more than enough. Last night was at least eight hours, probably more. Add another hour this morning. Nine hours, closer to ten.
Getting up from the nap though, any ambition to go over to the Flower Fair had faded, it was thin enough as it is. We'll see how it goes as there's plenty of time left to change my mind.
Later. So much for the Flower Fair. A beautiful day outside, so out for a walk along the lake, shooting a couple of pictures. The bike in the water had been fished out by someone by the time I returned. I'm sure there's a story there, but I'm not sure it isn't one we haven't heard before. Still, a nice morning, as mentioned.
Crowded at the farmers market, which you'd expect at noon given the weather. Nothing in the way of pictures, one or two just to document the crowd, but no follow through on my earlier thought to stick around and extract at least one. Obviously not something that's on my mind, although you'd think I'd have produced at least one decent section of farmers market photographs over these last years by now for artandlife.
On then to the morning restaurant to have a piece of poppy seed cake and coffee outside on the sidewalk patio, they adding the usual gratis bowl of mixed fruit. Come the end, when all that is unknown is revealed, I'll probably learn I'd have left long before without it: too many pancakes, too much bacon, too much coffee, too much carping, the fruit doing its best to serve as a balance. Well, we don't eat much bacon, but I'm sure we eat too much of everything else.
Back along the way sitting a couple of minutes at a bench by the white columns. Predictable. Home now wondering why the people across the way are yelling and cheering. Ah. The playoffs. The Forty-niners. Even for those of us who've lost interest in football need to watch now that it's the playoffs. Nobody gets that old. Or tired.
Well, you never know. Still, one way or the other, I'll not admit it. The commentary is tolerable, the ads are ever more juvenile, the game is still of interest. It's been a good game, football. Not so sure anymore now that we know about the concussions but the history is engraved in the brain. And it's on television. Right now. In color.
Later still. Another hour's nap and I'm still a little tired. I've watched some of the game, I'm switching to the news for the next hour, maybe head down to have sushi and sake later when they open before it gets too crowded. Might as well just go with the flow. If I'm taking pictures, I'm taking pictures; if I'm auto-writing here, well then, dear oh dear; if I'm taking naps, I'm taking naps. At least I'm not out on the street shouting at strangers.
No worries about ocular migraines?
We haven't had one in a while, have we? Might as well stay on course, analyze what went wrong when it goes wrong and one comes along, just don't anticipate it. And, well, don't be too foolish when you're far from home driving on strange roads, no need to have one then.
When's the last time you've been far from home driving alone on strange roads?
This morning, going and coming from breakfast.