Thursday, September 30, 2021
Wednesday, September 29, 2021
Tuesday, September 28, 2021
My Day
Nocturia: 1, at about 3:00 a.m. (Turned the wee hours into the wee-wee hours.)
Sensed light through closed eyes, thought it was BB coming back upstairs with the hall light on, but it was 6:45 and it was daylight. That's a good night's sleep.
BB went downstairs, and I stayed in bed beneath the comforter and the top sheet (note to self: didja notice they're both by L.L. Bean?). She left the baby gate open at the top of the steps, and I heard her directing traffic between Nora going downstairs and Nelson preparing to come upstairs. Soon, Nelson was in the bedroom, and he hopped onto the bed and came over to me for petting. That's an everyday thing now. He used to be more anxious and would whap his tail for minutes at a time, but at age 5, he's calmed down naturally and has grown to like attention from humans.
If I pet him too much or put my hand too close to his tummy, he hisses, whaps, and jumps down. So I've learned to pet him for a few minutes, then stop so he can lie down next to me. I touch his head and back lightly while he's there. At a time of his choosing, he gets up and leaves the bedroom, stopping briefly to claw the carpeting and leave the scent from his paws for Nora.
By now, it's about 8:15, and only then do I get up and prepare for work.
Power up the work laptop, boot the home PC, start up the soundbar and press start on all the monitors.
Both machines have SSD boot drives, so I don't have long to wait before they're ready.
Start the email program on the work laptop. Start Chrome on the PC and decide whether to listen to something on live terrestrial radio (bookmarks for public radio from the states of Vermont and Nebraska, from Philadelphia, Houston, Austin, Toledo, and San Francisco, and KING classical from Seattle) or choose audio from YouTube Premium Music.
Listening to Kate NV's Room for the Moon a lot more than anything else. It's musically interesting, lyrically unintelligible for the most part, and distant the rest of the time, just the way I like it. And it isn't the same stuff I've listened to since high school! Don't get me wrong, Steely Dan and the Fagen/Becker solo material is still at the top of my list. But it's healthy to search out sounds created by musicians born after Gaucho was released in 1980. Early St. Vincent, the middle two Vampire Weekend albums (plus Cape Cod Kwassa Kwaasa from the 1st one, and so far, nothing from Father of the Bride; I don't know why or what the difference is.), and now a Russian woman whose career is growing by word of mouth.
I could link to the New Yorker article where the author describes being told about her, or to one of the online pieces where St. Vincent tells about Cate LeBon recommending her, and mentioning to one interviewer that the current song she can't get out of her head is Plans. Then I saw that interview and the link. (Binasu is pretty good, too. Johnny T. says check it out.)
Enough about non-work activity for now. I check my mail and begin to organize and plan.
Downstairs around noon for a cup of tomato soup and chips. (Trader Joe's Organic and Utz Kettle Chips made with peanut oil. You're welcome.)
An afternoon of work. No walking outside due to the rain. A cookie around 3:00. Log off, sign out, power down around 5:00.
Beanee weenee with hot dogs for supper. A couple more cookies mid-evening. At 6:30, Good Queen Swirly got in my lap, and I nodded off. I woke up before she left around 7:15.
Listened to 1939 news broadcasts on YouTube while playing Fishdom to keep my eyes and hands occupied. Heard faint hope that war would be avoided in the voices of commentators Murrow, Shirer, Elmer Davis, Kaltenborn. Then the newscasts of September 1.
And now it's 9:30, and I've described this day in detail. It's the kind of thing I'd be interested in reading from someone else, once.
Hey 2056, how ya doin'? How in the world did you find this? I was born a hundred years ago, when Eisenhower was President, when the U.S. had 48 states, and the Dodgers were in Brooklyn. When commercial TV was only about a decade old and there were 3 networks and therefore 3 channels per market; when the Miss America pageant and the Oscars were important telecasts; when Time, Life, the Saturday Evening Post, Reader's Digest and TV Guide were popular magazines; when people got news from morning and afternoon newspapers. (In high school, I'd read the teacher's Toledo Times in the morning and the Toledo Blade when I got home.) Among other things.
Oh, and when you had to go out of your way to find porn. It was a different time.
Monday, September 27, 2021
Learned Hopelessness
https://twitter.com/juliaioffe/status/1442172987772268545?s=20
Nobody asked me, but... so many comments on that tweet, asserting that things are never going to get better, and when they do life will still suck because they've seen what people are really like.
American history, less than a century ago, 25% unemployment while the powers that be assured everyone that prosperity was just around the corner, and the resulting disillusioned resignation from everyone except the fortunate few with a good job and money.
Do humans have a short memory for this kind of thing? A lack of interest in history and its lessons? ("We learn from history that we learn nothing from history.") First thing that comes to mind is the memory of reading what others wrote about people within the framework of Living Through the Depression; those who endured it and made it out the other end, the writer observes, those humble citizens remember the tough times and are accordingly extra careful with money, including saving and washing and re-using disposable items. Not so much the interpersonal aspect, though. Well, maybe some "people helped each other out more back then." But that angle might be more in view in writings from a country that lived under fascism and its people's loss of faith in human nature after learning what they're capable of.
A long pause after finishing that last sentence. Maybe that's all I have to say on the matter. Yeah, re-read it and proofread it, and leave it at that.
Monday Memory
Found while looking for something else: I remembered that several years ago, a yellow volunteer wildflower appeared in the mulched area beneath the zelkova tree in our back yard. Turns out it's Oenothera biennis (Evening Primrose to you and me), and the picture was taken September 27, 2013.
I've seen some of them along the road, although none near our house, and the "biennis" in the name means that it only lives two years, unlike the hardier perennial wildflowers nearby like chicory, hawkweed, and aster.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)