Get To Bed
Saturday. To bed when? At ten. We seem to be wedded to that particular hour. To bed at nine? Fine, but it's usually when we retire.
OK. A bit tired when I awoke with the alarm, a bit tired when I got up a good forty-five minutes later. Didn't matter. Without the Times I can read the two remaining papers over breakfast and still get out before eight when the meter maids arrive.
A nice sunny morning, it's going to be another warm day. We'll see what's out there to be photographed. No parades or festivals or such, but an AIDS walk around the lake today and, who knows, maybe something else I can find on the calendar. But first a nap. It's still early and we're tired, we are.
Later. A nap. A nice nap, a nap you take when you need a little extra sleep so when you wake up, you wake up refreshed. Refreshed might not be a slight overstatement, but close enough. Hup.
A bus downtown in a long sleeved shirt, probably should have worn just a t-shirt, but a walk along 14th Street to take a look over at City Hall, nothing happening in front of City Hall so a walk then through to the City Center seeing that a number of places were open serving lunch. Hmm. I was hungry, but not hungry enough.
A bus back and then beyond to the morning café for a BLT, ice cream and a lemonade out on their patio along the sidewalk. A good BLT. Can't always stand the idea of bacon anymore, it's on the ocular list of things to be avoided, but sometimes, in small quantities with lettuce, tomatoes and mayonnaise, it's just right.
A walk then back through the farmers market stopping to take a single picture of the band, three young women standing beside me asking would I take their picture on their smartphone? Happy to do that (they had to show me how it worked), came away with a picture of my own. A walk then farther on out of the market to cross MacArthur by the bridge and to sit for five minutes by the lake.
A picture, just missing what I was after, but not bad for the few pictures I took. I have no idea what this is, it was floating along suggesting there wasn't much more below the water as above. Not sure I want to know, to tell the truth.
So back to the apartment. I missed the morning AIDS walk, what there may have been of it to photograph, but there's a sit in of some kind in front of the City Hall later this evening starting at seven. “Bring sleeping bags” the poster had said. Might take a look.
Otherwise some guitar, maybe start learning a song on my own, see if that doesn't encourage more practice. There are a lot of chord changes we go over, some few in every lesson, coming back to the same ones in later lessons and I've always known it would be better if I went through them once or twice every day instead of when they were assigned again to keep improving. Adding something from one of the song books might help. I might do that, although I don't know anyone who'd bet on it.
You never know.
You never do, even when you do.
Evening. Another Swedish reporter mystery at six, one they started running some two or three Saturdays ago, another one I notice that's available on Netflix. I decided a long time ago in college I didn't want to be a newspaper reporter and, not that this particular drama is accurate in its presentation of the beast, I still suspect I made the right decision. The writing part, fine; the reporting part, not so much. Diddle-dee-dutch.
Obviously, if I've watched it at six, I didn't go downtown to photograph whatever is going on at City Hall. We'll leave the night time excitement for younger idiots, attend the ones held during the day.
Younger idiots as opposed to the older idiots?
A pretty good day, the head relatively clear, not at all tired after two short naps; we'll get to bed at, well, when we get to bed.