Early am. I need to go into the office for a bit today, but am moving slowly. It was a nice, easy, relaxing weekend and work seems far off. Like just about everyone else on the planet, it seems we are trapped between our desires and the effort required to pursue them. I still want to have the kinds of fun that I am used to, but starting to lose enthusiasm for the kind of work required to produce enough income to support overseas vacations, nice motorcycles and all the other fine things I have been fortunate enough to experience. It’s not that I require these things all the time–sort of the opposite. Since all things are relative, I enjoy them most when they are infrequent.
Plans are for a quiet night at home for me. Always my preference on this night unless I am in a big city with someone and there is some great party. Plus I wanted time to work on the canoe and did not want to be hung over and moving slowly tomorrow. Canoe progress is very slow. Between intensity of work, travel, and generally living life, it’s hard to get the time I would like to devote.
Trump crazy train continues to roll. And roll and roll. It’s simply impossible to fully comprehend or characterize the depth of his narcissism and ignorance and so I won’t try. Just continue living through the shock and awe of this moment in time.
We saw our local coyote this morning on our early morning walk. I saw him cross the road about 60 yards ahead of us and then run across the yard to the woods. Dela smelled him but did not bark. I put the leash on her since I wasn’t sure exactly what she would do as we got closer. Turns out she has a memory of her last encounter and showed no desire to repeat the experience. She stayed a few feet ahead of me and ran straight across the yard and right up to the front door. Normally she strolls along the trees by the woods and takes a long loop and waits at the garage for me to catch up and then we go to the door together. Smart girl.
My writing, including journal entries, is off. But so it goes. I write when I write.
After work, I stopped by the local and had a nice beer and cigar–it was an uncommonly warm and beautiful day.
And later in the afternoon, we saw our friend the coyote again. Just hanging out by the trees. He’s beautiful but no friend to little dogs.
The Martini Tales 