Tuesday, December 3, 2002

why, you ask (didn't you?) is this here?
because I'm organizing my pictures and I found this image (stolen from an ebay trader) and liked it...it's one of those wonderful old French subway posters and because, of course, I didn't take any pictures today that I can put here

"Time is very dangerous without a rigid routine. If you do the same thing every day at the same time for the same length of time, you'll save yourself from many a sink. Routine is a condition of survival."

Flannery O'Connor

I get up somewhat unwillingly and dash around, taking out the garbage, stripping the bed, starting the dishwasher and washing machine. I have decided to do laundry and dishes rather than have the maid do it and let her concentrate her energies on floors and fixtures and dusting.

I go to the gym. My favorite bicycle is busy so I do the rowing machine for twenty minutes or so. I do the arm exercises in my repertoire and then the bike is free so I finish up there while reading my Richard Russo novel. The day is dreary and rainy.

At home, I shower up and change the wash and go to lunch with SuRu at Satay. More and more I hate to make lunch dates because it interrupts my freewheeling way of making it through my days. But SuRu and I always enjoy talking and this day is no exception. I have some Indonesian Rice dish that is pretty good. I tell SuRu that I always see someone I know here. I think that today is the exception but we walk out and someone I know walks up.

I go after this to mail a couple of packages. The place isn't busy and the job is quickly done. I go from there to my dad's. I get the mail in, water his plants. Then I go through a few more clothes, selecting some to keep for myself and some to take to the thrift store. I also find a rolling pin and take it. Mom has a marble one and a marble thing to roll dough on but I leave that even though I'm thinking Dad probably won't use it.

I make sure that I leave before four even though today's mail still hasn't arrived. I don't want to be caught in traffic. That's for people who work.

Home again I assess the second problem of the day with our Internet Provider. Then I just fool around, noting that my 'to do' list is getting longer and longer but that urgent matters are disappearing from it. I really don't do much these days that is all that critical. Did I ever?

I have a snack while FFP goes to the club for a workout. He comes home and cooks Salmon and spinach. Uncleaning the clean kitchen. I try to clean it up a bit before dressing for the evening's event.

And the evening's event is?

A 'preview' of the upcoming Christmas event from Conspirare...Austin's professional choir.

We struggle to park but get it done. FFP eschews the wine, I have a glass. The concert is good but the chairs are hard. It's funny about music, especially singing. It brings memory and inspires emotion. FFP and I have been thinking about music for our funerals. (Pop music of the 2040s perhaps.) Anyway, it occurred to me that Imagine wouldn't make such a bad funeral song. Nor We Shall Overcome.

We visit with people after over champagne and desserts. (Mini cream puffs should be illegal. I only had two, though, and they were small. Very small.)

JUST TYPING
The music soars.
Music and emotion.
Seem to be all one.