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Here In Oakland

Art & Life


July 31, 2017


Monday. A not bad night, which is good, awakening at six to get up and get out the door to walk to breakfast, arriving just as the café was opening to then sit and read the papers over an oatmeal, toast, fruit cup and coffee breakfast. The day and the week have begun.

Still overcast on the walk back home, noting the newspaper that was sitting in front of a restaurant that I'd passed while walking to breakfast, had been ripped apart and scattered about by someone while I was eating. I'd wondered, when I'd passed it, why it had been sitting there in the first place since it was the East Bay Times and the East Bay Times isn't delivered on Mondays. Was it in fact today's paper? Do some subscribers receive the paper on Mondays?

Worked on yesterday's entry when I got home, wondering why it was so obviously in need of a substantial edit. Why hadn't I noticed/caught it yesterday? I guess the brain really does turn down the current in the afternoons and evenings when I tend to avoid any writing, but kid myself into thinking I'm at least relatively coherent/aware in the mornings. This right now? How will this read tomorrow?

We'll get out the door later. Be interesting to see when and where.

Later. Out the door before noon to the bus stop, the bus due in two minutes, figuring I'd at least get a box of Good & Plenty at the City Center and play it from there. Play it from there. This went on for those two minutes or so before turning right around to head back to the apartment. Didn't want to go downtown, obviously. Made do with finishing a movie on the tablet before getting up and sitting here.

Later still. Did the laundry, just enough for three loads instead of the usual four and put the bedroom in better order in between moving loads and watching this and that on the tablet. Laundry done, hung and folded. Even the socks. Up and out of the blocks first thing this Monday to put it in a positive light.

Evening. Watched Father Brown at seven resulting in my inoculating myself against watching it again for some time to come. Hi, ho. Watched Endeavour at eight, realizing I'd missed whole sections of the story line when it reached the end and I hadn't understood what was going on again through their accents. Or, perhaps, more correctly, missing it through my American accent. Can't watch the adult Morse series anymore, manage to watch the younger Morse now and again, but evidently just barely.

The photo up top was taken while walking home from breakfast this morning with a Nikon D5 mounted with a 24-120mm f 4.0 VR Nikkor lens.