And Another Day, quiet and pleasant...

Random Person Warning... No grand ideas or incredible insights will be found in this series on the mundane aspects of my day. It is written for those non-random people who may have some interest or stake in how I am surviving alone for a couple of weeks...

Today was all about work as the pressure builds prior to vacation. But this blog is not about work, that would bore even me to try to write about it. But the pressure work gives extends beyond work. So the news, that today I made some good steps to getting needed tasks completed, makes my evening much more pleasant than it would have been. Outside of work...

Up later than normal. Pleasant time on the deck in the June gloom, but, alas, not enough time. To work by 9:00 a.m., long lunch with friends, and then home at 6:15 p.m. Leisurely trip to the hardware store for a light bulb and then home for a light dinner. But, alas, no one to light up my life on my arrival home.

Tree next door, brown leaves about
70ish feet from my deck. I included
it only because I liked the little man
sitting on the branch. It is about 35
feet off the ground so even though it
looks like a toy placed on the branch,
I pretty sure it's just sticks.

Since the sun was setting I was not able to complete the goal of comparing my newly acquired telephoto lens to my other telephoto lenses. No sunset pictures but here are a couple in what was poor light...

Standard test shot from my deck to a telephone pole 150 feet
or so away... 

The light was pretty bad but If you zoom in on the full resolution original there is a yellow sign just below the transformer (or ???) that reads, HIGH VOLTAGE. It is quite clear. I'd say my $10 investment was worth it. If other lenses win the comparison test I have no fear that I could sell it for

at least $10. Plus, if I hear the Surgeon General warn not to come within 150 feet of High Voltage signs, I will be all set to scan the neighborhood for hidden High Voltage signs.

So, today was a good day, quiet but good. That's it for now...

Another day, structured silence...

Today was going to be all about work. Except for fact that the 8:00 a.m. appointment and the 6 p.m. appointment placed some barriers to the start and end of the work day. Not that I could not have started before 8:00 a.m. and gone back to it after 7:00 p.m. I knew I would not be up to making dinner when I got home so picked it up at Von's, chicken and clam chowder. Suffice it to say that my dinner was not up to the standards I have been setting this week.

Back to the work day. When I finally decided to take a break for lunch at 1:30 p.m., my parting comment was, "I am going to go out and do something fun." That was prior to actually believing there was something fun I could do at lunch. I ran an errand and once this was accomplished I was conveniently close to my favorite local camera store (the only local camera store). They do most of their sales online and the store seems as if it is mostly a place to coordinate the online sales and develop film for students at the local photography institute. They do have some vintage cameras and lenses. And some old but not quite vintage lenses that are fun to look through. So, since I was just a couple blocks away, I went in to see what there was to see. 

The box of stuff for $10 held items that were banged, bruised, or just too odd to keep around. A shattered filter left on what was otherwise a reasonable looking telephoto lens caught my eye.  Wrong lens mount. It is not that I need another manual focus telephoto lens, it is the hope that I find one markedly better than my existing telephoto lenses. I bypassed that lens but then found one that intrigued me. The glass was free of noticeable scratches, the aperture seemed to work fine, and it had a unique lens mount adapter that seemed pretty cool. And for $10 I figured the cost benefit would be well within reason. 

The only problem, work and other commitments prevented me from actually using the lens in the daylight. So, while I wait for an opportunity to compare my new 70-210 Tamron lens to my other lenses, I did a quick test in poor light. I have determined that this lens is great if you need to take a picture of a Trader Joe's cookie perched on a faucet from several feet away.  

This and a visit to the new grocery store were the excitement for the day. So, for now, that's about it. 

Another day part two...

Monday continued...

So, in my rush to post I forgot to post the most interesting aspect of my day on Monday, at least in the eyes of one non-random reader. I arrived home to a big box from Amazon. This is always fun, but especially when it is near my birthday or Father's Day. This present was packing cubes to insert into my luggage. So instead of spending my evening on the five other things that were planned, I packed. not actually with the intent of packing for my next trip but to test out my packing cubes. So, here is result.

Very fun!

Now I have to decide if I can squeak through the next ten days without the clothes I just packed.

So, that is it. Monday is done.

Another Day

Just in case a random reader reads this, you probably want to skip this series as it is filled with the mundane trivia of my life every couple of days. No consistent thread, surprise ending, an inspiring take-away is likely to be found. The same is true for non-random readers, but then you may actually have some interest in something that is mentioned...

It was a quiet Monday morning, work looming ahead, but work always looms ahead on Monday morning. What did not loom ahead was 5:15 a.m., as my consciousness of the day was 6:04 a.m. I am not sure if the alarm went off and I successfully repressed it or if I simply failed to set it. Fortunately, I did get in an extra bike ride to make up for missing the Spin class.

Work, as I said loomed ahead, data complexities promising to challenge my claim as a developer. Then it was over, the chipping away at the complexities continued. Finally, an opportunity to have a nice dinner with no big evening agenda. Sunday night's salmon, asparagus and peaches could not be topped, but hamburger on fresh ciabatta bread with tomatoes and grilled asparagus & peaches held its own.

The highlight of the day was a brief three continent Hangout (as in Google) and a call to France. The lowlight of the day were all of the things I thought I could get done that did not come close to happening. Hence, this is being finished on Tuesday. A forced stop at Simone's to avoid being sucked into the void before publishing something.

That is it, at least until Tuesday...

Home alone, day 2...

As my lovely spouse spends her time improving her French, in France of course, I am left to manage the home front. There is not actually too much to manage. One thing is essential and this is not something that I do well. That is, keeping track of the mundane activities and occasional interesting tidbits that I can share with her in answer to the inevitable question, "So, how was your day?" (Or "What did you do today?" Or some other variation.)

Putting her question in context is important.  The question will usually be presented to me immediately after she tells of her adventures at the local market attempting to buy _________ (fill in blank of an essential item you have never had to buy in French). The story will likely be quite entertaining, possibly embarrassingly funny, and end with a cup of tea and a croissant in the neighborhood cafe. My answer will be something like,"I bought a potato at Ralph's to go with my Salmon. I went to Ralph's because Albertson's was closed, I mean permanently closed. But I did get a five dollar coupon for Haggen's, the new store that is taking over the Albertson's facility." Somehow, after hearing her French adventures and sharing my one bit of local news, I'll likely forget to tell her that I skipped Sunday School to chat with a friend from Turkey. And in the moment, I'll certainly forget to tell her of the morning sermon or the passage that Jane shared. Since the passage was about wives submitting to your husbands, perhaps it would be better not coming from me. I'd probably mention the bike ride to Carpinteria, but beyond mentioning that I saw  a seal, a snake, and a squirrel there is not much there to hold her interest. 

And she definitely won't want to hear of the dishes that I finally put away or the ones I need to wash that I think can wait until tomorrow  - or next month. There are some things she just doesn't need to know.

But I will send her the pictures of the friends from Turkey, especially what turned into an impromptu photo shoot of the 19 month old hamming it up for the camera and the 5 year old trying to "gently" pick up a lady bug. The lady bug survived.

So now when she asks, "What did you do today?" I can say, "I did this and this and this. Oh, but you've already read the blog." That's about it. 

Lovely

Thoughts of writing are always with me. Opening lines of a book run through my mind, only lacking a story. Or complete plots inspired by some event or person that strikes me. Actually writing is the issue. Those ideas, engaging for a few minutes, are not essential to my immediate joy or wellbeing or the joy and wellbeing of those I love. At least that is my thought in the moment.

But the act of writing codifies those fleeting thoughts, taking them from ill formed ideas or incomplete  plots to a picture of what strikes me in the moment or season. Even if the ill formed or incomplete remain so, what is captured paints a picture of the world from my perspective. And, perhaps, it may paint a picture that enlightens others or causes me to see what may be of value as a writing project to extend, to build on, and to complete.

This week Lauren Bacall and Robin Williams died, one in old age, one in the prime of life. Bacall's illness was mentioned in the news but did not stick with me, something about the age made her death seem inevitable and okay. Williams' illness was also mentioned, depression, perhaps he was bipolar. It was not inevitable. Depression magnifies and consumes. For Williams, the disease won out, perhaps past failure or weakness or some present crisis magnified beyond his ability to cope. It does not diminish the laughter he brought to all of us or the love he had for his family. I wish he were here to sum up what he learned in his 63 years on earth as he did each week at the end of Mork and Mindy. It would surely strike the heart of the matter and we would smile. And then we would cry.

What caused the trending of my thoughts was the passage I was meditating on this morning:

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. (From Philippians 4)

There is much in the news that is not those things. Much in our lives or those who have recently died that are not those things. The lessons of disease or failure are not to be lost but neither should they consume. If I only learn from history, I'll never write that story. So, today, I'll look for the true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and praiseworthy. 

There are certainly lovely things that come to mind - holding a grandchild for the first time or recalling moments of our vacation. In the midst of the great palaces and cathedrals, beautiful and sobering, there was this ...

Looking out across the rooftops of Barcelona, traffic sounds climbing to my balcony, workmen yelling out in the distance, children's voices rising from the school yard, and one lone sunflower calling out silently - Lovely...

Writing prompts

My daughter gave me a journal and a jar filled with a writing prompts for Christmas last year. Today, I decided I needed to write and took the journal, some of the prompts, and my favorite pen, to my favorite coffee shop.

Prompt: Our childhood car

The seat covers were probably leather, fabric would have burned differently. I was 4 or 5, my sister was 7 or 8. We were with our Mom in the Packard (or some other boat car - boat as in big). I have a recollection of standing in the back seat - not on the seat but standing with my hands on the front seat. There were no seat belts then, no restraints unless an adult was in the back seat with you. The possibilities were wide open for playing with or tormenting siblings. I was the youngest at that time so my role was as the tormented one. But there were times of collaboration between my sister and I when we were together on errands with Mom or at the skating park with Dad.

One such time was when Mom had some errand to run. My sister and I had to go with her in the car, but either could not or did not want to go inside with her. There were not any toys in the car. So while we waited for Mom to come back to the car, we had to devise some entertainment. I am sure it was my sister who did the devising. I was merely the agent. She was in the front seat and I was standing in the back. She discovered that the car cigarette lighter worked when the car was turned off.

So, now we had something to entertain us. As we were too young to smoke, some creativity was required in what to do with the cigarette lighter. My sister was old enough to know that open fires in cars were not a good idea and likely to incur some unknown punishment.

Our parents were non-violent people, so spanking, while not explicitly ruled out, was certainly not expected and extremely rare. The punishments were typically unspecified prior to receiving them. The fear of the unknown greatly outweighed any threat of spanking.

There we were, a working cigarette lighter, no interest in smoking or fires, and no wood to practice wood burning designs. But there, right in front of me was a canvas waiting for something. The top and backside of the front seat were the perfect canvas for cigarette lighter art. The leather did not burn like paper would have. Placing the cigarette lighter on the leather resulted in a nice circular burn, etched permanently on the seat. Perhaps if I were 12 or 15 I would have made some recognizable picture. Or perhaps some very regrettable recognizable design. But at 4 or 5, I had yet to develop a specific artistic bent. Impressionist or abstract would have been my choice if I had known enough to articulate my artistic tastes. But these ideas were not part of my childhood and my abstract impressionist creations were not received with any great sense of awe.

So what I lacked in artistic skill I had to make up with volume. In this case, the circular patterns on the seat. Random placement of concentric circles burned in black on brown leather seat was the limit of our artistic sensibilities. It was like branding cattle without hurting the cow or angering the bull. The result, some 50 or 100 or more burns, carefully placed, with care taken not to make accidental burns in other parts of the car or on each other. Our creation complete, we only waited an appreciative audience.

My memory is actually blank on the actual events and the critical review of our work. But I do remember the burns on the seat of the car and no burns on my own seat. So, it could be that I was merely an innocent bystander. I do have some vague recollection that there was a reaction that was not appreciative of our art work and that some significant punishment was incurred.

[Note: No fact checking was performed in the writing of this. I believe it is essentially correct, but would you trust a memory of a four year old regarding an event that took place in 1958 or 1959. My siblings may choose to comment on the veracity of the story. Some long suppressed memory of mine or some confession from a sibling may alter the details (e.g. I may have been framed). But the image of cigarette lighter burns on the seat remains seared in my memory.]

[Note 2: My dad loved cars so my selection of a childhood car was from a fairly long list of what are now some classic cars.]