Friday morning... in These titles mean nothing.

… in the red chair
… in my red LLBean robe.

I blend in. They are different shades but not too different. It’s supposed to get hot but it isn’t too bad yet.

and

The power went off. With it the internet.

It’s back on now. Or I would not be writing. It’s almost 1 pm. I’m listening to static-y radio - Wisconsin Public Radio’s Chapter a Day for the first time in a long long time.

They have a FB page. Of course they do. So this is what they’re reading:

Monday, May 23 through Friday, June 17, 2016. “Midnight in Berlin” by James MacManus. Read by Norman Gilliland.

Power is off again. I’m typing into nothing. Even more so than usual.

It’s hot on the deck, still cool in the house. I just brought in the dry clothes. I am thinking of getting the mail.

I feel kind of cruddy. Post (as in after) a lot of things blues. Giving blood makes me tired the next day sometimes. A day off makes me that way too. Last time I had a Friday off I did a lot of things. I got things done. Today I’m not and I won’t.

I think I’m going to LaCrosse to take the train to St. Paul. I’m kinda blah about it. I’m not sure now how many times I’ve done it. Once on the LBH trip and twice otherwise. Maybe three times. Last time was in March to see Mary Poppins. It was the end of winter, beginning of spring. LBH and I came and went last September. The other times are fuzzy. Is that a bad sign? I know the first time Jim took me to the station and picked me up and after that I drove myself and deposited the Buick to the train yard’s parking lot. They give you a slip of paper to put on the dashboard to prove you have a right to be there.

I am here and now. I am now sort of dressed. I have eaten left overs. I have watered the deck plants. I have read a bit of Greene and Updike bios. I have not been particularly cheered.

I was surprised the clock above the table knew the time until I realized it’s battery powered. Refrigerator is dark-ish and damp-ish. The basement has been doing some gurgling - water pressure tank related I am quite sure.

The table we were keeping clear is not clear. But I refuse to enumerate it’s contents. Birds and cricket-y things are making noises. I have the door to the porch open.

I’ll keep this window open so I can save it when the power comes back on. I suppose I can save it to my computer too. Let’s see how that works. First I highlighted the text.

And then I got lost in where to take it and where to put it if I got there.

But fortunately what I wrote was still here. Who knew? Write trash and it will last forever. Write something good and it disappears in the click of a light bulb on and off.

So anyway. Be good. Have fun. You don’t have to be too good or even have too much fun. The joy of life is moderation. I’m trying to decide if I believe that or not.