Any Time Soon
Saturday. Awake before the alarm, up and out to breakfast on another clear (going to be sunny) day. Hey. Back to look at yesterday's entry. Again, for saying I'd had a clear headed day, the writing was miserable and took some time to make it less miserable. For all the miserable writing why am I thinking of taking on another writing project?
So as to see if you can still write something less miserable?
Later. OK, sunny day, out the door to walk along the lake and then through the farmers market, skirting the Belgian waffle truck remembering the last time I'd had one with powdered sugar. Was it the culprit, bringing whatever on right after I'd eaten it? Flip a coin, I'd have to say, given experience I now have with them, could be either. Powdered sugar, after all. Change, coincidence? Age related hallucinatory excursions into the swamp?
Onward then to the morning restaurant for lemonade and strawberry ice cream out at a table in the sun. Good lemonade. Off then over the hill on Mandana to the ATM on Lakeshore, the sun still bright. Some slight double vision in the distance, particularly at the periphery, but it had tightened up by the time I reached the bank. The bright sunlight the culprit, I suspect, none at all now that I'm back at the apartment.
Anyway, a good walk to sit by the lake for a while on the way back. Not much in the way of pictures. This one should have been taken both from a lower angle and I should have given him more time to move about some more, see if I couldn't have found a better composition, something I know I should do more often, know I should be doing at the time I'm taking them, but squatting down is harder than it once was and I'm still shy about being caught by the subject when taking their picture. And I'm lazy. We might work on lazy tomorrow at the marathon. No pats on the back for avoiding one or two sore muscles being lazy. Not in the photo racket.
Evening. I've seen the Italian police procedural before that played at six, so we skipped the Italian police procedural at six. Which left us with the four chapters of House they run from six to ten. Which I watched while sitting with the guitar going back and forth between two of the more difficult chords. I think I've got the transition down, although I think the pad at the end of my pinky finger isn't going to forgive me any time soon.