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Here In Oakland

Art & Life


   



September 27, 2014

Self Delusion

Saturday. And so our little ocular event early last evening put us in bed before eight, up with the alarm after ten hours sleep. I guess I was tired. Still, up without too much effort, off to breakfast and back on a clear morning, the sun is going to have the entire day to bake out any moisture left over from our brief experience with rain.

I can't say I've “experienced” the drought yet, although I am limiting my use of water, but the farming areas inland are in real trouble. Not good. Must occasionally remember that as we babble mindlessly on.

Later. No thoughts of a nap at least after whatever number of hours sleep. A walk over to what turned out to be the construction site as there were workers unloading palates of four by fours (I think they're four by fours) at the entrance across from the bottom of my hill. OK, a walk along the sidewalk to see what else may be going on, nothing going on facing along Grand, but half a dozen people finishing an interior brick wall and other sundry tasks above on the second floor, so a picture or two to document the first time I've seen them working on a weekend.

A brief walk over to the lake, nothing happening at ten in the morning by the lake, no interest in walking on to the farmers market, so back to the apartment to process the pictures and think of something else. Too many places visited too many times, I guess, although some once frequented places I've pretty much written off, taking a bus to Telegraph by the University, for example, or any of the other places I once visited without a thought.

They are (still) picketing deliveries by an Israeli shipping line at the port, a Twitter call to participate after five this afternoon, the group forming up at the West Oakland BART station. I could go photograph what I'm assuming will now be a small participating group so long after the Gaza mess, but suspect, given my travel phobia, I'll bail on the project.

Then why mention it?

Oh, just to remind myself the mind and interests are deteriorating changing and it might be worthwhile to keep an eye on both.

Later still. Another do nothing day/afternoon, I'm afraid, watching more of both of the British and Australian detective series I've been into on the tablet. Perhaps every day can be treated as a Sunday without a care when you've retired. Takes more time than I imagined though to adjust.

Up thinking I'd at least get out the door, walk down to the 7-11 look-alike and get an ice cream bar, which I did, but discovered they had a long line at the checkout counter (and you can grow old in line waiting for them to ring up a sale), so I turned around at the door and walked home. A single photograph passing by the lake. So much for ice cream.

Feel good, reasonably clear headed, the sinus thing not acting up too much, so back on the bed to watch something else?

Doesn't surprise one bit.

It obviously frustrates me, though. But just a little, no way near enough to do anything about it.

Evening. Not much to say, I'm afraid. More Netflix/Amazon on the tablet, pasta and red clam sauce for dinner, some television in the living room, if only to watch the news. Saturday night. Is this now how we spend our Saturday nights?

You don't seem all that upset.

I suspect I'm upset over the fact I don't seem upset. Self delusion?

The photo up top was taken Sunday at the Folsom Street Fair with a Nikon D4s mounted with a 70-200mm f/2.8 VR II Nikkor lens.


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