Not So Loud
Saturday. Well, yes I watched Inspector Brunetti last night, a subtitled German detective program set in Venice that I've seen before (but didn't remember much about it or the ending) and didn't get to bed until ten-thirty. Not the end of the world, especially as I got up with the alarm feeling just fine (thank you!) and headed out and back from breakfast, stopping by the supermarket on the way home. Feeling good. Fine. As if it had thus always been.
We've been careful about the breakfasts: plain waffle, sliced bananas and strawberries on top with a mixed fruit appetizer (good for us: a gold star, a pat on the head and a nice note from the teacher), although it seems to be whatever I'm having for lunch that causes most of the problems. That Its-It yesterday? The chocolate? Ice cream doesn't seem to have the same effect, although I can't say it has no effect. Not really.
Anyway, we're feeling whole, the day ahead, some enthusiasm for pictures. Always good to see enthusiasm continuing for something you do every day, have done every day for fifteen years now. It would be disturbing if it, like other pastimes, were to evaporate and I'd have to find something to replace it. But we'll worry about that whenever it may happen. For the nonce we'll just say “fuck it” and get on with this - hup! hup! - sunny morning in the last half of the month of November thing.
Later. A bath, good; no thoughts of taking a nap, but I suspect the late night last night will catch up with me by afternoon. A walk over to the lake under a bright sun, comfortable in a long sleeved shirt, over and through the farmers market without taking a picture other than of the lake, on then to Lakeshore, but turning back at Peet's. A photograph as I was heading home. Or two.
A bit tired now, feeling better, some cereal I'd picked up at the supermarket this morning for lunch. I also picked up two of the small single serving bottles of sake, so we're obviously in the mood to play with matches, but it's been a while, we'll see how the mood is later in the evening when and if we light a fire.
When have you ever passed it by?
You never know anymore. Life has become odd.
Later still. A proper nap, a good hour, up then to check the mail and futz with the computer. Futzing with the computer means going to the various news sites I prefer and reading whatever left wing gibberish strikes my fancy. For someone who claims to not read books anymore, fiction anyway, I spend a lot of time wearing the reading glasses.
Evening coming, the sinuses behaving, we'll see how the day unwinds. The evenings are usually good after a good morning, but separated by a less good afternoon. Certainly worked that way yesterday. Today, well, today is OK, any fuzziness gone with the nap.
Evening. Yes, well, I must admit it's nice to have had a couple of drinks on this Saturday night. We do it so rarely now. Nothing on television, of course, one or two things I've been sampling on Netflix, but I suspect movies will no longer move me as they once did. Except now and then. We'll learn to live with it. For the while. For the nonce. 'Til the mourning morning comes.
Interesting. Playing one or two old songs from chapters so long past as to have become myth. Rock and roll from the fifties. Just two or three to remember, to recall. From the 45's. Yes, I have the original 45's. Now playing Family's Family Entertainment album. How long has it been since I've listened to it?
Ms. C went for a while with their guitar player, Family probably better remembered here for the bass player, Ric Grech, who later joined Blind Faith with Clapton, Winwood and Baker. Funky picture on the Family Entertainment cover, but a really good album, probably better known back then in Great Britain than here in the Colonies.
That was a large part of the function of alcohol and weed, where they together took you with the music. Haven't done this in a while. Sake at least seems to get your nose under the tent. I wonder what my fellow apartment dwellers think?
You're playing it loud?
Not too loud. In my head maybe, but not so loud for a Saturday night, here in Oakland.