Tuesday. To bed early last night as I was running out of things to do and figured what the hell? Sleep. Up early this morning with plenty of time to get up, get dressed and drive to breakfast before seven, allowing me to leisurely read the papers and finish before eight when the meter maids begin to bloom. A life dictated by meter maids. Only in America. Or maybe Oakland.
It is a nice morning, going to be from the look of things (and checking the forecast), a nice afternoon two days before the holiday. The Christmas tree people are setting up their shop under Highway 580 where the farmer's market holds forth; Christmas ornaments are showing up in shop windows and I should, if I'm going to do it at all, come up with an original photograph for a Christmas card, something I've said now for at least the last ten or fifteen years.
I still receive Christmas cards, not many, but the idea I receive them at all is rather amazing given my own lack of production, and it would be nice to send some out of my own. Now that I'm retired. Now that I have time to practice the minimal amenities. Minimal amenities are the glue that holds families together on holidays is my guess after watching them, after watching me over these many years. Just an observation. Nothing to worry about. I do have blank card stock ready to be printed. But then I had it last year too. And the year before, I recall.
The congested-raspy chest still seems to be receding under the influence of this inhaler stuff. So slowly it could just be doing it on its own. Don't want no congested lungs if you're going to catch the flu, no siree bob. At least I think that's true. Same with the sniff it through the nose in the mornings Flonase. I'm not sure what it does, not sure what it's done, but I keep on taking it when I get up. So the various maladies seem in order. The blood pressure has settled well under my current dose, much smaller dose, now that I'm lighter, and that's good. So again, the inventory of maladies seems under control. The inventory itself, not the maladies themselves. Or did you pick that up?
You may stop with this at any time.
Later. A walk down to the bus stop to stand and debate my destination. Take the bus? Downtown? What's downtown I haven't seen before? And how do I feel, standing here in this bubble, the sun sharp and bright on a fall morning?
The bus. OK, no way around this now. Get on the bus and think. Maybe the connecting bus to Berkeley on Telegraph. Maybe. Get off the bus at the stop three blocks before the Berkeley connection, walk along the sidewalk under the trees. What do you think? Coffee and three of those chocolate muffins at the Café Madrid? No. Around the corner to look at the connecting to Berkeley bus stop digital display, a limited stop bus due to arrive in one minute. Obviously I was supposed to take it, the bus pulling up to the curb just as I arrived.
A sixty block trip on Telegraph to get to the University. I know, I lived halfway along the way when I first came to Oakland, commuting on this very bus before they changed its number. Got off at the stop well below University so I could walk up Telegraph and check the shops. Few, if any sidewalk vendors selling the usual stuff from posters to jewelry and everything in between. A half dozen in total? When there's usually over fifty. The economy? One or two stores boarded up and looking for tenants. This Thai Noodle II restaurant? Has it replaced that old noodle shop I'd occasionally visit? Or was I not paying attention?
A walk onto campus, lots of students streaming through Sather Gate, a quick walk through with camera in hand before turning around and walking right back to Telegraph on the other side of the street. My urge to photograph trees with the sun behind their leaves still in evidence.
I've been planning for some time now to check out the back pack shop next to the return bus stop and what do you know? There I was. Here I am. Did they have a back pack that would carry one of my cameras mounted with the 70 - 200mm lens, something skinny, long and light and not too obvious as to what might be in it? One, I opened it, I calculated, but I couldn't be sure. Was it really tall enough? It was just barely wide enough, I could check that with the camera I was carrying. I'll bring a camera back with that lens attached to check. Sure I will. This decade. Or the next.
Back to where I'd made my bus connection to the Café Madrid, coffee and three (for a dollar) small (chocolate) muffins to while away the time before my connecting bus arrived across the street, the head still in its bubble. All this talk of progress. Does it make sense? Who knows? Maybe a larger dose of the pain meds in another hour, see if they help. Life in the fast lane. I suspect some sake could help.
Later still. The DVD storage binders arrived this afternoon so I've spent the last couple of hours moving photo backup DVD's around and cleaning up some of these piles of plastic cases. Part of the building of a photo database project, getting in good enough shape so that I could find an image if I wanted. An image from, say, 2004, of a seagull on Lake Merritt. Why I'd want to do that, I'm not sure, but when this project is finished I'll be able to do it. And you thought I'd given up. Well, you were suspicious.