From A Wide Spot In The Road

Sunday morning: woke my wife at seven-thirty so she could get up and watch Sunday Morning
on the tele. I made coffee. Weighed before drinking a cup. Ugh. Thought I was doing so good, now after one good meal, this, 176.8. Someone said the later in the morning you wergh, the less it will be, but you can't wait too late or it becomes fasting. Oka.y, so much for the elephant in the house.
Be no breakfast this morning, going to brunch around eleven at some French pastry place. I plan to snack lightly if lightly is available. What will I do the rest of the afternoon? I don't know. I no longer watch pro football. I never was much of a fan of pro ball, any kind. I used to watch pro golf
But that was when I knew most of the players. Now days I don't know so many so I dropped the game. Most of the activity I attend now days is in my head as age slowly slows me down. Folks shouldn't get their hopes up though because I may surprise and come speeding down your street
your street on one of those electric scooters, yelling something sensible.
 

drifter said:
Sunday morning: woke my wife at seven-thirty so she could get up and watch Sunday Morning
on the tele. I made coffee. Weighed before drinking a cup. Ugh. Thought I was doing so good, now after one good meal, this, 176.8. Someone said the later in the morning you wergh, the less it will be, but you can't wait too late or it becomes fasting. Oka.y, so much for the elephant in the house.
Be no breakfast this morning, going to brunch around eleven at some French pastry place. I plan to snack lightly if lightly is available. What will I do the rest of the afternoon? I don't know. I no longer watch pro football. I never was much of a fan of pro ball, any kind. I used to watch pro golf
But that was when I knew most of the players. Now days I don't know so many so I dropped the game. Most of the activity I attend now days is in my head as age slowly slows me down. Folks shouldn't get their hopes up though because I may surprise and come speeding down your street
your street on one of those electric scooters, yelling something sensible.
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@drifter, I would love to see you speeding down my street yelling on an electric scooter!

You make me laugh; eating "lightly" at a French pastry place. :LOL: Hope you enjoy it, and please tell us what it was like?

Have fun!
 
Had a brunch at LaBogette. Good to get out and enjoyed the time with the kids. Son said he got a not too bad raise. That always helps the old aching toe a little bit. The kids had been to a Friends of the Library book sale which didn't know about. Everyone had a breakfast of some sort except me. I had a tuna salad. Theta salad was good but it was on the worst tasting piece of dried out bread I have eaten in I don't know how long. I left mmost of it. The kids dropped us off at the library agreeing to return and pick us up in thirty minutes or so. We waited cinside about fifteen minutes for then doors to open. It was a verysmall sale. Today was bag day. They gave everyone a bag when we went in. I found only two books, put them in the bag and went to check out. I shoved the bag toward the guyand waited cfor him to take out my books from the bag. He mere looked at me, saying nothing. So, I opened the bag and took my two books out. He said you don't want a bag, they are five cdollars a bag.
I folded the bag, neatly, handed it to another cashier who was watching and listening, who took it. I said I was returning the bag, I didn't want a bag, I wanted to buy these two books. He hesitated a minuted (it seemed longer) then said than will be two dollars. Back home I was so tired and so short winded, I was motionless for several minutes. I haven't looked at the used books until just now. I slipped in a little nap.

One of tbe books is a western by Mickey Spillane and Max Alan Collins. Anyone remember Mickey Spillane? His first books were thrilling.
I, The Jury; My Gun Is Quick; Vengence Is Mine; One Lonely Night; The Big Kill; and Kiss Me Deadly. The list goes on and on. I carried two of them to Korea with me. When the shelling would stop, I'd climb out of the bunker, sit on the ground and lean back against the sand bags that protected the bunker, and read Mickey Spillane. His private I books were were fabulous with a world wide following. Can lhe write a decent western? I'll find out.

The other book is "Rewriting," How to do things with texts, second edition. It's a college teachers book for graduate students. Appears to be about adding your own take to what others have written about a whatever and how to go about extending the knowledge of a subject by Coming To Terms; Forwarding; Countering; Taking An Approach; Revising; and Remixing. The Afterword: Teaching Writing. Of course there is an Introduction and an Acknowledgment and Index. I thought I'd see if it offered anything new or could I even tell.

Tomorrow, going grocery shopping or somebody may be eating hard, stale bread.
 
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Bought groceries this morning. I wanted to buy some boloney in the worst way but didn't. Nor did I buy the high priced organic, seeded bread I have been using. Bought Oatnut and a loaf of the now Sara Lee's Rainbow sandwich bread. However a big part four bread is now owned by
Bimbo Bakeries. And who is Bimbo? They are a Mexican National Corporation who fuernishes much of the world's bread, including Sara Lee.
It's hard to know who owns what now days.
 
I intended to to call Goodwill this afternoon to see if they pick up donations. I have a few items to donate. A bag of clothes, a handy electric grill to grill most any thing inside, a very good micro-wave oven, and a bicycle I bought a while back, thinking I might be able to ride it. No can do.
I'll call tomorrow.
 
Well, I called a local Thrift store about pick up.
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Who We Are:
Outreach Thrift Store teams with local churches and community agencies in helping individuals and families in need of clothing and household items through our referral program. All donations given in the community STAY in the community to help others. Please use our drop-boxes, or bring your clean, gently used donations into one of our stores to ensure that they are used locally.
Furniture accepted, subject to approval.

This store took my donations. He is a VA nurse, His wife a school teacher. It appears he helps veterans down on their luck or vets needing furniture and clothes or food. I figured Outreach Thrift was as good as any to handle my donation. I'm glad to get them off my hands.
I've been in their Store. a pretty nice place. Ok, that's done
 
My daughter is coming for a visit tonight, from Austin. Will be so glad to see her. She has Multiple Myeloma. So hoping her remission is still holding.
 
drifter said:
i've been out of pocket a couple of days. Nothing going on, just down in the dumps. Felt better yesterday, okay today. Can't explain it. Felt bad, that's all. I'm happy got a place to chat (here) if I have something I want to say. Got something to read and I've been reading some, reading what others suggested and not really into it. Went to the library this morning. Wife looking for some good listening and wanted to see what is available through the library system.

I have three books I picked up the other day but haven't red any of them and didn't plan to get a book today. But I did. Maybe because I've been spending some time with my harmonica, both to exercise my lungs and to satisfy my pure enjoyment of playing some music well even if it is with the lowly harmonica. And in the back ofmy mind I suppose I've been thinking I might get another chromatic harp one of these days. I had one, a ten hole which I never played well but I'm better at it now than back in those days when I tried a ten hole chromatic. I want, I think, a good twelve key. I'm not ready for a fourteen or sixteen key.

I paused to fix myself a cup of tea, a regular stample at my place now days. This is bag tea, an assam tea, littlle on the cstrong side if seeped the minutes they suggest. I usually make a pot of tea every day but the day started out differently today so I had an extra cup of java.

The book I got at the library today I didn't plan to get. I asked the librarian if they had anything on music. She said they had no recorded music, and what was I looking for. I told her I didn't know but wanted to browse their books on music. They didn't have many but I spotted one, only
one, because of it's title, "Moving To Higher Ground." Now what kind of title is that? Sub-title is 'How Jazz Can Change Your Life." If it had been by any other authur I might not have gotten it, but it was Wynton Marsalis ( with Geoffrey Ward). I didn' know Ward but I have been listening to Marsalis on YouTube, jamming wth he and his band with my harmonica, attempting to learn a little bit about his Jazzy world in music. How many times have I listened to cWynton Marsalis and Eric Clapton together. I picked ukp the book, browsed through it and checked it out. Looks like it's got some simple stuff in it that even I might could figure out. The only thing it small print and I have only been reading large print for sever years but, I have a magnifying glass with a light and almost large enought to read across the page. Anyway, I'm going to reddit, then if I can, play it, and see what happens. I've been blowing a long time, but more recently. My lungs feel so good after a long session with that little harp.


The only other thing happening the past few days, I rode into dthe city with my son, he's been wanting to trade cars. His sunroof is leaking and that vwould cost him some to have it repaired. I don't know how much, doesn 't matter, he was in the trading mood. We were up there so long I almost ran out of oxygen. I had the setting on njmber one for for two hours to conserve. Anyway, he did trade over the next day or so and made a sensible trade. Got himself a good-looking Suburu. This is a nothing post, much like I've been feeling, but I'll try to do better next time, so don't hold it against me, dear Diary.
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I was happy to read how good your lungs feel after playing, Drifter!

Jazz is the one genre I remain pretty ignorant of. My dad used to say a person can't say they love music if they ignore mostly everything besides what they knew in their teens. I love all kinds of music in varying degrees, but jazz never got to me.

So, I looked up Wynton Marsalis on Wikipedia and wow!

"Marsalis has been awarded nine Grammy Awards and his Blood on the Fields was the first jazz composition to win the Pulitzer Prize for Music."

You sure have good taste! Maybe I'll explore a little.
 
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RadishRose said:
Someone gave me one of those many many years go. I never used it. Dragged it Well, I did fo bout a year, but that was it.around for years and finally threw it out. I don't drink hot tea.
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I'm a recent convert to hot tea, recent being in the last ten to twelve years. Thought I was drinking too much coffee. Now i wake up in the mornings and my harmonica and tea are the first two things I think of. Many don't like hot tea butenjoy iced tea. I don't make much iced teca anymore but recall making two glasses during the past summer. And, some jazz is better than others.
 
I discovered a blog this week, entitled, A Commonplace Blog, by D.G.Myer, a historian and critic, the title taken from "A Commonplace Book's meaning. Included within the blog are reviews of other authors works. I read a review of Larry McMurtry which I didn't totally agree with but found interesting. I thin read a review of Alice Munro's, Dear Life," published in 2012 with which I did agree and still found interesting. I was glad to stumble onto this blog of interesting writings. Yesterday I learned the author of the blog had died the previous week on September 29th. I didn't know the author. I had never heard of him before this week, but I nevertheless feel saddened the author, a professor at Texas A&M University for twenty years and Ohio State University for some less years had passed. I didn't know the man but I feel saddened for his passing because I had only met him through his writings, which I deemed good writing and writing of substance. Odd, huh?
 
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the Dreamer


I stand on the bank of the river watching the water roll past me. The river is up, swollen in size due to the spring rains. It rushes along faster than its normal pace when it is at its normal level. On the far bank I see a father and son fishing and several people are walking along it's bank. A stone makes a number of splashes as a young boy skips them across the water. I know where the river goes. Down stream is a picturesque waterfall. The water falls over a hundred feet splashing onto rocks below. Destruction awaits anything going over the falls and certain death to any living creature.

I look upstream and see coming toward me, a small, flat bottomed boat. One individual sits in the middle of the boat. He is oar-less. He yells for people on the far bank to help him. No one pays attention. As the boat nears, I look at the man and I am startled to see that it is me. I'm going on down the river and I am terrified for I can hear the waterfalls. It makes a constant roar.

Yet, above all the noise I hear my name. The rocks are calling and I know they have already claimed me and I am seeing a replay of my demise; an event made noteworthy because I am one of only three to have met their end on on the rocks beneath the falls.
 

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