Saturday, August 13, 2011

Funk to Playground to Concert to Yard

It’s the next morning and I’m writing about yesterday, and that’s okay as I sit here with my cup of French pressed light-roasted Costa Rican coffee (with a bit of a light-roasted Mexican bean mixed in because, you know, I ran out of the Costa Rican, and really this Mexican is probably just about my favorite of all). I'll back-date this, just to help continuity. Or maybe that doesn't help. Oh well, I'll did it anyway.

Liam has been waking up a bit early, which is also okay, I reckon, although I’d sure prefer to tuck a few more Zs into my bag before I jump up from bed. Angie made an attempt to let me sleep in, but I was awake around 6:15 and pulled one of my pillows over my head to block out the light and it wasn’t working, plus I started smelling bacon, so I got out of bed around 7:00am.

I drank a Berry Veggie. You’d think I work for Naked Juice. I don’t.

When it comes to bacon, your nose never lies to you—I came out to spelt waffles and bacon. I was dragging, but coffee was made and my boy was running around and my smiling wife will always brighten my day, even if I am in a bit of a funk. I’ve been in a bit of a funk. The day started full of funk.

It’s nothing particular that’s going on, really, I’m just in a bit of a funk. I’m lacking some motivation. It’s nice, in a way, because I’ve been…maybe relaxing a bit more. I haven’t been out working on endless projects, or projects with ends but doing one after the other. I HAVE been spending more time in front of the computer—all my work, and then this typing. But I’m getting some encouragement from this typing, and it’s an outlet I seem to need at the moment. I’m still going.

I spent most of the morning and early afternoon sitting around. Funking around. (Oh, that reminds me of a story. I HAVE to blog about that sometime.) Angie was making preparations for an upcoming art showing. I did some reading about soil nutrition. I researched some garden problems. I played with my boy and he fell asleep on me on the big bag while I was reading out loud to him about compost and soil nutrition and I transferred him to his crib. Angie went to the gym. I didn’t do anything of great significance or consequence. Funk.

Before Liam fell asleep I’d started eating a banana, but Liam loves bananas, so I had to split half with him, and then I forgot to eat any more of anything for a while. I may have had a handful of walnuts. I decided I was going to swim, but that was still a little while off. Angie got home. Liam woke up. I went to the pool planning for a shift in brain chemistry. Exercise is good for that type of thing: positive changes in brain chemistry; mood shifts. I ate an apple on the way.

My swims continue to get better, which is odd because they hadn’t really been doing so for the last couple of years, which is pretty much the entire time I’ve been swimming regularly. I spent around 40 minutes in the pool with a bit over a mile of distance done and some intervals thrown in to spike the heart rate. Intervals of any kind of exercise are pretty fantastic. I soaked in the hot tub. I sat in the steam room. I sat in the sauna. I don’t know why I enjoy these things, but I do. I left.

I did feel better. There was mood improvement. I drank a beer: the Four in Hand IPA. We decided margaritas and Mexican food sounded good, so we headed off to El Torrito sometime around 5:30. Chips and salsa. Too many chips to be considered healthy. Too many margaritas to be considered healthy (three), but they were making them weak, so what’s a couple to do? My dinner consisted of two chicken tacos on hard shells, and they had some chunks of tomatoes in there and I don’t love tomatoes but I know I should eat them and that’s one of the ways I do it is to just sneak them passed myself, so I left ‘em in there and ate ‘em. There was also a jack cheese enchilada and some Mexican rice (‘cause what other kind of rice do you get at a Mexican place?) and although I don’t like beans much, I made myself eat a bite of my refried beans before I forked the rest over to Liam. He loves beans. He was also experimenting with voice volume. Happy screams. People look, and he can be loud, but it’s also kinda funny. He’s learning; that’s all.

On the way back, this is when things got real good: my wife suggested we stop off at the playground at the park down the street from us: Carmichael Park, which is where our farmer’s market is going on right now and where I’ll be making a trip after Angie, who just woke up, finishes whatever breakfast she decided to make. Sometimes I’d just miss meals if she didn’t’ do things like this. I love her. Although I did have a Blue Machine and a half a banana already this morning. (The other half of the banana? See above reference to Liam’s love of bananas.)

Anyway, we stopped at the park and went over to the little tot’s playground, which we had to ourselves, and we had a good time. It was about 7:30pm. It was a beautiful evening. Liam was loving the climbing and the slides and sure, he fell and bonked his head once and has a nice souvenir from that, but the cry was brief and the playing continued. Slides make smiles.

There was music, and we always hear the music, but we had never investigated the music. On Saturdays our park does this Concert in the Park thing, and we started strolling over to check it out. The stroll was slow, luring Liam along, and we took off our flops and sandals and enjoyed the soft grass under our feet. (It’s true I hate the concept of grass like that in California, because it doesn’t belong here and wastes water, but I also can’t deny that grass underfoot is a pleasant feeling indeed, and one I hadn’t felt in a long time.)

We got over to the concert happenings, which happen over by another couple of playgrounds, and Liam was captivated by bouncing balls and lots and lots of kids. I can’t believe we’d never explored this option before. It was fantastic. I mean, the band was okay, playing mostly covers that it’s hard to hate, really. That’s the nature of a decent cover band, I suppose. Liam played with a little girl, two months younger than him. They played some ball. She started dancing. It was really cute. She was really cute.

The Concert in the Park has a great atmosphere. There were so many families out there, all these kids and adults of various ages, couples and singles and folks just hanging out. There were lots of dogs; dogs of all different kinds; big and small and wieners, which are small but that’s just such a funny word it should be said and typed often. Wieners. The stage had a dance floor in front of it, and adults and kids were there dancing. People take chairs and small tables and coolers and dinners and snacks and drinks. Folks had bottles of wine and glasses and different kinds of beers and juices. All the time we’ve lived in this house hearing that music every Saturday (during the summer, at least), and we never knew all this was happening down the street from us—we just heard the music.

It hit 8:30 and, although the concert was on-going, we came on home. Liam needed a bath and a bedtime. Those things happened. I fed the dogs and went out with them and it was dark so I wore a headlamp and did some garden watering because it gave me something to do while they did their business.

There was a big party down the street in the opposite direction of the park too, apparently, and there was a band playing there as well. I could hear them while I was out. Decent musicians, not the greatest singer, not the greatest music, but it was original and the drummer had some talent, which came through in those moments of no music because drummers sometimes have trouble not drumming. It’s a fidgeting thing, I think. Or it is for me.

I was drinking some of the Montevina barbera. I came in and read a bit. I went to bed.

I can’t say good night to anything in this blog entry, because it’s morning. And it’s a fine morning, even if the sleep wasn’t great and Liam made me get up early again. That’s okay. I had my coffee, I had my Blue Machine and my half of the banana and now I’m gonna go eat some pancakes with real butter and maple syrup. Good morning, beautiful wife!

No comments:

Post a Comment