For the third day in a row yesterday, the weather was glorious. I woke early, before dawn, and 30 or 40 minutes later took my coffee at the little wrought iron table outside to watch the sky go from dark to bright, clear blue. The change happens remarkably fast.
The temperature was brisk – 55F to 60F – just right for early morning.
By the time I spent two or three hours doing laundry, reading the morning news, answering some email and playing with Olllie the cat, the sun was filtering through the surrounding trees irresistibly. So off I went to the paths of the nearby park along the Willamette River.
On my return, I remembered that Ollie needed food. Not just any old food you can get for $8 or $10 a bag at the market. Oh, no. He’s on a diet (who knew there was diet cat food) per the veterinarian and it must be bought at the pet store for twice the price. Off I went in the car with all the windows rolled down, the better to enjoy the sunny breeze.
Next to the checkout counter were kittens for sale, six or eight of them, and I couldn’t resist plopping myself down to play.
Ollie is my friend good and true, but is there anything better than a whole passel of kittens jumping and rolling around and crawling up to your shoulders – just because they can – the tiny, pink pads of their paws soft against your skin? You don’t get to do that much in life.
Back home, I decided not to save the halibut I had bought at the fish market for dinner, so cooked that up with some steamed veggies for lunch and by the time I’d cleaned the kitchen I was, for no obvious reason, overwhelmed with sleepiness.
I succumbed and a great nap it was with a dream about clocks for sale in Chinatown but not really for sale yet and I would need to return in a week or two to buy one. Or something like that.
Clocks. It was 3PM by then and there was not a thought in my head for a Wednesday blog post except maybe that Congress and the White House seem determined to sell out Social Security, Medicare and Medicaid to not raise taxes on corporations and the rich.
Or maybe that story about airports and elders that Crabby Old Lady has been working on.
But the outdoors was calling to me again. Although it was 80F degrees by then, a breeze made it wonderfully tolerable and off I went to the park paths again.
When I returned, it was time for Chris Matthews’ show. He amuses me and sometimes I learn something. There went another hour and by then, 5PM, Ollie wanted his evening meal and I was beginning to think about my own dinner.
But yikes – no blog post yet. Nevertheless, I set about preparing a fresh fruit and vegetable salad with homemade ginger dressing, and leisurely enjoyed every bite.
From long experience, I know that by late afternoon or early evening there is no point in attempting the kind of critical thinking serious writing requires. I get stupid by then. So this is what you get. (Fair warning: The weatherman predicts another week of days as glorious as this one.)
In the sense that pasta of any shape or size is nothing more than a vehicle for a tasty sauce you would otherwise eat as soup, this post today is a vehicle for a link to The Elder Storytelling Place.
And how are you spending your days this summer?
At The Elder Storytelling Place today, Marcia Mayo: Geezer Chic – The Ultimate Alternative Lifestyle