I got up early because Liam got up early. It was 6:10am. I drank a Blue Machine. I started water boiling for coffee. And I curled up in the big bean bag, trying to wake up. Liam crawled up with me…then off me…then on me, this time with his little tool box, and he played. I tried to wake up.
The tea kettle whistled and I ground my light-roasted Mexican beans, poured, and stirred. I waited several minutes, then pressed, then poured myself a cup. I measured out enough water and steel-cut oats to make 4 servings of oatmeal and got that all to a boil. Liam and I went out to the garden. The experiment in miniatures continues.
We had a big day ahead of us: the 3rd Saturday Art Walk was on at Beatnik Books starting at 7:00pm, and my talented wife is the featured artist this month. I let Angie sleep in, and sleep in she did.
The oatmeal was ready around 7:30, so I mixed some brown sugar into mine and a bit of the same plus some banana for Liam and gave him a spoon. He tried the spoon a bit…the decided forego the spoon and use his hands. It’s easier, but messier, and I’m fine with that. I drank my coffee and he drank his milk. I drank no milk. Simple black coffee. Calorie-free, high caffeine coffee. (Light-roasted coffees have more caffeine than their dark-roasted doubles—and they taste better, if you ask me, which you didn’t. But they’re fruitier—you taste them on the tip of your tongue. You actually taste them—they don’t just pass the majority of your tongue by then tap the back of it on the way down your throat. I find that to be…better.)
We finished up breakfast and momma still wasn’t up so I did some dishes and took out the compostables and just sorta doddled around the house, playing with Liam. We spent some time outside with him pointing at and chasing the birds. He’s newly fascinated with birds. I’ve already vowed never to buy him one as a pet.
Angie got up just as I decided her oatmeal was well past its prime and tossed it in the garbage. Oops. But seriously, I wouldn’t have eaten it. It had been sitting more than an hour. I can be weird about these things, though.
With Angie awake I did something somewhat out of character: I picked up my phone and called a friend of mine. I’m not good at staying in touch, whether ye be family or friend. I’m just not good at it. I hadn’t spoken to this guy, other than an email or two, in about 2 years now, and it was nice to catch up. I spent probably an hour or so on the phone, which I really just don’t do, but I was sitting outside and it was nice outside and it was nice bullshitting, so that’s what I did…until my phone got close to death. We said our goodbyes with the usual promises not to wait so long to talk next time and I came back inside; Angie had been cleaning some.
~~I've been eating almonds like mad. I can't write about every time I eat them. I graze. They're there, and I eat them. I long ago learned the best way for me to avoid snacking was to not buy snacks, and I generally don't, but almonds are so good. Nuts are so good, I'm just on an almond kick lately. So assume I was eating almonds at various points in the day. And at some point, I ate an apple and shared a banana with my boy.~~
We found out there was more room for more art at the bookstore and I’d left a painting that was crying out for display in my office (it’s a favorite of mine, and I love it; hence, it hangs in my office and always gets compliments), so we went over there to pick it up. Going to work on non-work days is somewhat surreal and I don’t much like it, but I felt like an art thief so that at least made it a bit more fun. Liam fell asleep so Angie hung out in the car with him.
Painting retrieved, we went to the bookstore. My mood turned south for no good reason—I was tired and hungry is the best explanation—and Liam and I strolled the streets a bit while Angie hung a few final pieces. I heard a man telling others of his 40-minute conversation with God and I’ll jump to be judgmental and say, based on his looks, this probably happened during an acid trip, but what do I know? God may just get bored sometimes.
I felt like I was going to fall asleep on the way home, and Liam was getting testy about being hungry. Luckily, we made it home. I made me and Liam a turkey sandwich, much the same as normal: peppered turkey on double fiber bread with mustard and lettuce and swiss cheese. I ate pretzels. I ate an apple. I lamented my knee.
Yes, my knee is still messed up. Or at least it’s still a bit swollen, although there’s improvement, but I suspect I’ll go ahead with scheduling a doctor appointment tomorrow because the knee worries me so.
I was so tired and in such a foul mood I decided to try to nap. This was sometime after 1:00pm, I think, or around then, and I laid in bed and tried to sleep. I pulled pillows over my head. I wondered at one point if increasing my intake of CO2 would help me to sleep, but then I also didn’t want to suffocate myself, so I made sure that wouldn’t happen. I listened to the noises around the house. I got up to pee. I went back to bed. I listened to more noises. I thought of things I should be doing. I heard the house go quiet. I tried to sleep. I’m pretty sure I didn’t, or if I did it was so little I didn’t benefit from it, and I got up feeling more tired than I was when I laid down. It was 2:40pm. The house was empty and I decided I’d probably benefit from a swim. Angie got home and I went to the pool.
Again I did the entire swim workout with the pull buoy in an effort to rest my knee. I recognize it’s possible swimming and kicking may actually help my knee, but I’m not willing to risk that call on my own, so I continue to rest it. I swam 40 minutes, did my hot tub soak, then sat in the steam room and sauna, just as I always do, although this was my third time in the pool this week—that’s unusual, but what else am I to do? The end result was the desired one: my mood shifted to the good side and I felt more energized. I came home and Angie was out for a run with Liam so I played the drums.
I often settle into a rut in drumming—similar beats I have a hard time breaking from. This was one of those good days, though, when my mind freed up a bit and I was able to play better and more creatively and I really enjoyed it. I was sweating a bit when Angie got back. It was around 5:00pm and we weren’t sure what we’d do for dinner with the art show that night. I drank a beer. We showered, I donned my Uncle Sam F**ks YOU t-shirt, and we headed to the bookstore for the show. I had a coffee with some whiskey and Kahlua in it for when we arrived ‘cause…well, do I need a reason?
Liam fell asleep on the way to the show. I sat in the car with him sleeping while Angie put some final touches on the setup. I sipped my coffee. Liam slept. I drank my coffee. Liam slept. Angie was done. I was hungry. I really had to pee because I’d also drank 80 ounces of water in the past couple of hours. Liam finally woke up, I finished my coffee, and we strolled in to the store. Liam played and I took photos.
We talked to some folks and my stomach was rumbling, begging for nourishment.
Angie did a bit of scouting while Liam napped and we ended up at an Irish pub across from the bookstore that had surprisingly good (and FRESH) food for dinner. Nothing frozen and cooked from a box; they actually cooked. The owner was chatting with us, said he had actual trained chefs in the kitchen, and he goes to the store twice per week to buy food. “All fresh.”
Liam was testy but we had the dining room to ourselves, so his testiness was little issue. He has been a bit more…uppity when dining out lately, largely because he gets antsy and wants to run around, but he was also so far off schedule last night it just wasn’t helping. We ordered a Guinness-breaded and fried chicken appetizer to try to appease Liam, and it came with a tasty BBQ dipping sauce and some kind of ranch dip, but I never touch ranch anything. I ate one of the chicken breasts because it was really good. There were fresh-cut fries, too, but I’d ordered a burger so I didn’t touch the fries ‘cause they were coming with my burger. Angie touched the fries because she didn’t realize she’d ordered salad with her burger in lieu of fries, the poor girl. It worked out well, though.
My salad was greens and a bit of cheese and croutons with a balsamic-vinaigrette and there were tomatoes and cucumbers on the side but I don’t like either of those things. Hence, Angie at the cucumbers and my napkin at the tomatoes. My burger was Angus beef, lettuce, onion, mustard and ketchup on a sesame-seed bun (not wheat), and I had a side of those aforementioned fresh-cut fries which were super good. I ate too much. Luckily my Racer 5 (I only had one) gifted me with a couple of burps and I was able to get it all down.
We paid and headed back over to the bookstore and realized we’d missed a couple of friends that had stopped by, which was unfortunate. I followed Liam around, in and out of the bookstore, my wife sold a bit of art, and with the little man getting so tired, we left around 9:30. We got home and Liam went down for bed. I poured a small glass of barbera and was planning to read but didn’t really feel like it because I was so tired, so I just went to bed.
And now it’s the next day and I’m back-blogging again. I need to get back on top of this. But it can be so hard to do this every day. Or night. I really can’t believe I’m still going. I can’t believe anyone is still reading. I need to see the doctor. I think I’m gonna try some yoga. I have no reason to say good night.
So good day, beautiful Sacramento day. We’re in the midst of the mildest summer since 1982. Or, we’ve at least had fewer triple-digit days than we have since 1982—only 5 so far, when typically we’d be around 27. Nutty. Nutty, but kinda nice.
No comments:
Post a Comment