Sunday. To bed and to sleep when? Not particularly late, not particularly early, and so up without having to set the alarm at twenty after seven in what should have been a good night's sleep and, sitting here after returning from breakfast at nine-thirty: so far, so good.
Another sunny day although somewhat less so after reading in the papers that California Coho salmon have probably been wiped out by the lack of rain blocking entry into the rivers where they need to spawn. All gone. Coho salmon. Just like that. Salmon have a special place in your universe when you were raised in your early years in Seattle, maybe not an attitude shared by everyone.
Anyway, I'm told the Chinese New Year Flower Fair is running through the weekend and, after checking, I may attend. But it's early. We'll see if I'm serious or if this is just more of the old smoke blown for my own benefit. Is writing it down here enough to shame me into going? Will something come to mind that I can blame for not going? Is the moon made of green cheese?
Indeed. The sun. It gets to you. It does.
Later. A walk over to the lake with a long lens on the camera to experiment with a new focusing technique I recently read about and needs to be practiced to the point of being automatic before it can really be evaluated. Works better in some instances (where a subject suddenly moves), works as well in the others, but I'm worried about missing a picture in the process. Back to beginner's mistakes, maybe, for a couple of days.
Anyway, nothing much going on along the lake, but a picture or two, again to test this new process remembering closer (is usually) better. Did this walk to the lake mean I'm skipping out on going to San Francisco? I suspect.
Later still. Not tired as such, but the sinus-upper palate is kicking up and a general feeling that the mechanism not quite working, this happening during a walk to the hardware store to pick up two butane refill canisters for my candle lighters. We use one in the evenings as often as not to light the votive candles and the t-lights. Another habit.
Anyway, something like a three or so mile walk, nothing strenuous about it and nothing really physically tiring about it, but I did feel like an old man ambling along the sidewalk, not necessarily showing outward signs of these failings, but definitely feeling them.
What the hell, back to the apartment again taking but one or two pictures, detouring over to the burger drive-in to pick up a turkey sandwich. What they call their turkey burger. Either way: turkey with mayonnaise, lettuce and tomato, no onions or cheese. I'd eat the onions, but my automatic “no onions please” response is a holdover from a misspent youth.
I do like scallions, but for some reason won't deal with onions, all of them in whatever form reminding me of how they look when they come out of a pan looking all slimy and icky. We were not into slimy and icky as a youngster and my parents were accommodative after I'd almost thrown up after attempting to eat them once or twice at the dinner table. They themselves liked them just fine. Same with green peppers in all their various evil crunchy forms. Hopeless.
Thus has been the early afternoon. Old man out walking. Not tired, the head clearing as soon as I came inside to sit down, eat the turkey burger and turn on the fan. Too warm walking back in a light jacket. The world hasn't ended, but it has sent a message.
Again, not much in the way of pictures, although I did again document the cherry trees all in blossom. They're planted along both sides of Grand from the theater on to the hardware store with all of them in bloom. I know I've seen them blooming in April, not uncommon to see them in April, my thought at the time being the Cherry Blossom Parade and Festival is held in May, is April early? Is January? I have no idea.
You could, you know, check the web.
Ah, yes: the web. I could.
Evening. Nothing on television I haven't seen and don't need to see again so we'll do more guitar and vegetate. I talk about vegetation, I also practice vegetation, in every season.